


Once...In This District

by passionately_curious



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionately_curious/pseuds/passionately_curious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen, orphaned after a great storm, always dreamed of something more than the simple life offered in the Seam; specifically, the love of  a wealthy Merchant boy from the other side of the district. The powerful Victors who rule over the district guide Katniss on a quest to test the strength of her love against the forces of prejudice, hatred and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Rated NC-17 for character death, abuse, sexual nature, and language.  
> This fic is a cross-over of one of my favorite musicals, which is based on the Hans Christian Anderson version of The Little Mermaid.  
> None of this would have been possible if it weren't for my amazing beta, Sunfishdunes, who pushed me to participate in FFLLs, to write THIS story, and who made it so much better thanks to her tireless work beta'ing this beast. Also my thanks go to Wollaston (alonglineofbread) and her hubby (yourpeetaisshowing) for being my cheerleaders and pre-readers and banner creators.

The raven-haired four-year-old woke with a violent gasp as her room filled with a blinding light and a deep roll of thunder quickly followed. She dove back under her blankets with a squeak and clenched her eyes shut. "Down in the meadow," she whispered in a shaking voice. "Under a willow – Ahh!" Another clap of thunder.

"Baby?" Her mother called from the other side of her door. She knew her young daughter was never fond of thunderstorms and this was one of the worst in years.

"M-m-mama?"

The older woman entered her room and attempted to flip the light on. Of course the storm had knocked the power out; she could only hope it was temporary. "Sweetie? Are you okay?"

The girl let out a loud sniffle and shook her head, causing her blanket to shake wildly.

"How about you come downstairs with Mama until the storm blows over?"

The girl ripped the blanket off her head, snatched the old stuffed goat that was passed down to her, and flew into her mother's arms. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the toddler's room and she buried her head in her mother's shoulder.

She carried her daughter down to the living room, checking in on her husband, who volunteered to quiet the baby. He was rocking the newborn back and forth in his arms, whispering something. She heard her youngest coo at whatever he was saying and she smiled broadly.

She wrapped them both in an oversized afghan from the couch. "Now, little one, would you like me to tell you a story?"

The girl nodded. “Mama, do you know any fairy tales? I want a fairy tale like Papa tells me.”

Her mother chuckled. Often, it was her husband who filled their daughter’s head with fantastical stories about dragons and castles, the stories he was told as a child. Their daughter loved the adventures and the creatures and the comical voices for each character. “Have I ever told you the story of The Mockingjay?”

The little girl shook her head. “What is a mockingjay, Mama?”

“A mockingjay is a type of a bird. A very old bird with a beautiful voice. Legend says if you sang to a mockingjay, it would sing the tune back to you. But The Mockingjay was the nickname given to a young girl who went on an amazing journey to find her one true love.”

Even at the tender age of four, the girl was infatuated with the notion of ‘one true love,’ so she eagerly clapped her hands at the suggestion. “Yes! I want to hear that story.” She snuggled closer into her mother’s warmth and smiled up at her. “Whenever you’re ready, Mama.”

“Once...in a district much like this one, there was a terrible storm...”


	2. Chapter 1

Finnick was not the most capricious of the Victors – that title belonged to Johanna, who was quick to ire and difficult to appease once her favor was lost – but he was easily the most impatient and child-like. And like any child, his tantrums often became violent and unruly at times, often for no obvious reason. Such was the case currently, as the residents of the Seam in District 12 hurried to board up their homes in preparation. The skies had been growing darker all day, an ominous warning of what was to come.

Haymitch liked it when Finnick and Johanna lost their tempers. Annie would cover her ears and cry, anything to block out the painful sounds of shattered hearts and broken homes. She was the most sensitive of the Victors, most easily swayed by the emotions of the humans below, and the opposite of Haymitch, who blocked out emotions at every turn. They were meant to be that way – polar opposites of one another – it was the essence of their beings. A Victor of Love wouldn't be able to bring two people together if she was unable to tap into their emotions. And the Victor of Death would be too overcome with the grief and despair that hung around him if he wasn't indifferent to their problems.

Finnick was particularly temperamental that day, though it didn't help that Johanna was continually egging him on with her taunts and teases about how much power he actually had. They did this often, the Victors of Water and Earth, respectively, competing with one another for power and supremacy. Sometimes it resulted in beautiful gardens and bountiful seas, if they were getting along. Otherwise it was the cause of destruction of entire villages.

Haymitch wandered the streets, taking long drinks of the one vice he enjoyed while on the job: white liquor. Thanks to an initially-questionable deal made with the one-armed woman who distilled it, Haymitch was often presented with as many bottles as he pleased when he visited. He spared the woman's life after a mining accident and she supplied him with liquor, with the agreement to never to mention the encounter. He wasn't in the business of saving lives, and if others found out about his moment of kindness, they would stop fearing him, making his job that much harder. And Haymitch was one for keeping things simple.

He found pleasure in his duty, collecting the souls of the dead; it was a solitary, somber job. He rarely made actual contact with the living, only if they were brave enough to peek through their windows as he passed by. Most were too afraid of him: afraid of the legend surrounding the old Victor, and too afraid of dying. They all knew that if they ever met him – saw him face to face, spoke any words to him – it was the end. He would eventually meet them all, regardless of their fear. Especially on days like today with so many homes destroyed by Finnick's floods.

Haymitch was caught in his tracks when he came upon the last house in the District, or what was once a house at least. It was no different than the hundreds of others that were brought to rubble, household items floating past his legs. Three souls were awaiting his release: a man, his wife, and young daughter.

 _Come on, Old Man, haven't you wasted enough time down there already?_ Finnick called out to him. Haymitch brushed the young Victor's voice away and stepped carefully through the wreckage, reaching for the three he was to take.

 _Haymitch! Stop!_ Annie's ethereal voice filled his ears.  _There's another soul. Don't you feel it?_

Haymitch cocked his head to the side. It was faint, hovering between living and dying. It was injured and frightened but not yet resigned to join the others. He knelt down and lifted a few pieces of wood that once served as the exterior of the house. Huddled underneath, with her eyes closed tightly, was a young girl with dark braided hair.  _I found it. A girl._

 _Is she dead?_ Johanna's harshness cut through.

_Not yet. Close though._

_Haymitch, if she is not dead, you cannot take her_ , Annie implored.

_I know the rules. But she won't last much longer here._

_Hypothermia?_ Finnick asked.  _Or other elements?_

 _If we do nothing,_ Haymitch confirmed, staring at the shivering body of the child.

Johanna huffed.  _Why intervene for a child?_

 _Why not? It is what we do, is it not?_ Annie responded.  _There is love still in her heart. The love of a child is strong, Johanna. Are we to extinguish that bit of hope as well?_

 _They brought this on, Annie._ Finnick added in a bored voice.  _The villagers know what they are doing when they seek so much from us. We take our just reward at the end. It is our way._ It was not uncommon for him and Johanna to see the villagers as only fulfilling the cycle of life, to be so callous toward those below.

 _Have you not taken enough with your petty fighting?_ Annie answered.  _It is a cycle, yes, but when do things even out? Does one child really change the balance so much?_

The Victors were silent until finally Johanna spoke up.  _Let her go, Haymitch. Finnick will make sure she gets out from under the house._ Haymitch nodded and left the house and the shivering girl, just as Finnick sent a strong current through.  _See if she survives the floods a second time._

It picked her up easily, sweeping her into the river that now passed through the village. She woke and took a large swallow of water, violently spitting it out. She bobbed under the current over and over, reaching desperately for anything to hold on to, anything to stop her body. Her legs were tiring and her arms were giving out. Again and again she bobbed under, water filling her lungs and clouding her eyes. She struggled to keep her head above the water level, determined to survive. She caught sight of a low hanging tree branch a few feet away. As she surged toward it, she used the last of her strength to push herself out of the water, grasping the branch with her fingers and barely pulling herself out of the current.

She clung to the branch for dear life, panting hard and desperately attempting to regain her focus. Being a child of only five or six years of age, the girl now found herself waiting out the rest of the storm completely alone.

 _She's a survivor,_ Johanna mused.  _A mere child was able to outlast your great storm, Finnick._

 _A warrior among the peasants_ , Finnick conceded.

_So what do I do with her? Her spirit still hovers between both worlds._

_Let her live, Haymitch. There is something about her. Something different._

_You say that about every child, Annie. What is so different about this one?_ Finnick asked.

_I don't know yet. But I can see into her heart and she is special._

Haymitch cocked an eyebrow.  _Johanna?_

_Spare her. She may yet serve a greater purpose for us._

Haymitch nodded and continued through the village, picking up any straggling souls that had been holding out just a few more minutes, before returning to the other Victors in the skies above.

It took the rest of the day and night for the water to recede and the village to begin showing signs of life again. The girl spent that night resting on her tree branch, forming her plan to return to her home and her family. When the morning sun rose, her stomach gurgled in hungry frustration, so she swung down from her stoop in search of any food she could scavenge. She was far from home – that much she remembered – it would take a few hours for her to reach the cluster of homes her family lived in, so she scrounged up whatever scraps of food she could find and quickly made her way back, knowing her Mama and Papa would be searching for her as well.

She paid no attention to the crumpled houses or weeping neighbors she passed, determined only to see her own family once more. In hindsight, she should have noticed that the closer she got to her home, the more destruction surrounded her, and perhaps the site of her leveled house would not have caught her quite so off guard. As it was, she stopped short in front of what used to be her second favorite place in the entire world. Gone was her bedroom, full of handmade dolls and hemmed trousers and play bows and arrows. Gone was her baby sister's crib, her mama's favorite dresses, her papa's guitar that he'd play for them. Her mama. Her papa. They weren't here. And she couldn't hear them calling for her. She couldn't hear her baby sister's shrill cries. She couldn't hear anything over the breeze. She couldn't see anyone. There was no one left.

She stumbled to her knees amidst the rubble and began to weep for her loss. Her tiny, young heart broke with each sob ripped from her throat. Her childish threats to Finnick and Haymitch were lost on the Victors' ears among the older, wiser prayers.

"Down...in the valley," she whispered the words of the last song her papa sang to her, just last night when she confessed to be scared of the storm. "The valley so low. Hang your head over, hear the wind blow."

The girl continued to sing the haunting song, unaware that the wind ceased around her and the birds hushed their own melodies. A boy, pale as the moon, and his father slipped through the ruins; a basket of freshly baked bread in each arm, searching for survivors. It was the boy who heard her first. He tugged on his father's pant leg and pointed toward the sound. His father's stoic face dropped when he heard it. He knew that voice, the hypnotizing cadence. The raven black hair and darkened skin. And when his son pulled a loaf of bread from the basket and began stumbling through the wreckage toward her, he knew the boy was a goner for the Seam child.

"Roses love sunshine, violets love dew, angels in Heaven know I love you. Know I love you, dear. Know I love-" she stopped when the boy's heavy footsteps interrupted her song. She snapped her head around and stared at him, scowling at his intrusion.

His blonde curls, bright blue eyes, and toddler chubby face did not belong in the Seam. He was a Merchant child. His home was protected by the sturdy wall that separated their parts of town. Like her mother's family. The ones who deserted them when she fell in live with "that songbird from the Seam." She didn't trust their kind, even if the boy so closely resembled her mother and baby sister.

"I brought you this. My papa made it." He held the loaf of bread out to her.

Her lip curled up and her grey eyes stared into his. "I don't need your Merchant handouts." She turned her back to him and tried to ignore the pitiful gurgle from her stomach at the thought of fresh Merchant bread.

"It's a payment," he countered, sitting next to her. "I don't have any coins so this is all I can offer."

"Payment?" She asked, refusing to face him.

"For your singing." She curiously faced him, his bright smile softening her exterior slightly. "Your voice is pretty," he continued, holding the bread out again.

Hesitantly, she reached for it. It was so warm and she could tell the hard crust hid the soft, aromatic middle. She held it up to her nose and inhaled deeply, letting out a soft sigh. It was the best bread she ever smelled before.

"Will you sing again?" He asked quietly.

She wanted to eat the bread, but surely this loaf was worth more than just one song. She nodded and continued "The Valley Song". When she finished, he took over, telling her funny stories about the bakery his papa owned and the trouble his brothers often caused while she took small bites of the bread. Every story was rewarded with a shy smile or small laugh.

"Peeta!"

Both children turned to where the boy's father stood, basket empty, calling him.

"That's my papa. I better go." He rose and dusted his pants off. "You should get back to your mama and papa, too. I bet they miss you."

She looked down at the remaining bread. It wasn't fair for her to keep it all. If it truly was payment, she should have sang more to deserve the entire loaf. She held it out to him, the battle between food and owing him raging silently in her head. With a small wave, he turned and headed toward where his father was waiting for him, leaving her alone with the bread. She turned it over in her hands and in a voice audible only to her, whispered the kind Merchant boy's name over and over. "Peeta," she repeated, committing it to memory, letting the letters flow over her lips. "Peeta." The boy who gave her bread. Who wanted to hear her sing. Who made her smile.

Her musing did not last long, as she heard the familiar marching cadence of the local Peacekeepers approaching. They were checking the homes for survivors, getting a census of who was still alive in the Seam. If they found her, they'd take her to the orphanage. Her father used to shield her from the orphanage when they would walk through the Seam, hiding her as much as he could from the pitiful cries of the beaten, starved, neglected children. Few survived the ordeal and those who did were often unable to carve a life of their own, falling victim to drink, wasting their young lives away. She would never survive the orphanage, the horror of subcoming to that future was too much. She would have to run, hide in the woods until they disappeared. She could survive for a while, she knew plants well enough. She tucked the bread under her arm and began running as fast as her legs would carry her to get as far from the local police force as possible. When it was safe, she'd return to the Seam and attempt to be taken in by a family and work. She knew that there were some sympathetic families that would hire orphan children to save them from the orphanage. Her father was well liked in the Seam and her mother had been the make-shift doctor to so many that surely someone would take her in.

The girl spent three days high in the branches of a tree, taking as small of bites of her bread as possible, to stretch it out as long as she could. She gathered the blackberries that grew in the bushes around the tree and chewed on tree bark to suppress her appetite. One morning, while daring to travel a few miles from her temporary home in the tree, she came upon a rabbit strung up, midair. She cocked her head to the side and ran her hand along the animal, jumping back when it gave an unexpected twitch.

"Stealing is punishable by death, you know."

She froze as a tall figure came into view. He couldn't have been too much older than she was –possibly nine or ten –but he was still rather imposing. Dark hair like hers that hung in his eyes. Tan skin, sharp grey eyes, arms and legs that he had yet to completely grow into.

"I wasn't stealing," she mumbled. "Just looking."

He unwrapped the twine that had hooked around the rabbit's paw and tucked the animal into his belt where three others were hanging. "I've never seen you around here."

She shook her head. "I've never been in this area before."

"Where do you normally hunt at?"

"I don't hunt." She opened the makeshift bag she created out of her overshirt to show the selection of berries and plant leaves she had collected. "I gather."

He scoffed. "No way a family can survive on just plants."

"No, but I can survive on them just fine," she scowled.

His face softened as he realized the truth in her words. He had seen children like this one before: scrawny bodies, sunken eyes, hunger constantly written across their faces. It was the same way he was before he learned to hunt and provide for his own family after the death of his father. "Those berries would go better with rabbit, wouldn't you think? My ma's always looking for different things to add to her stews. I bet she'd pay you good for your find. Maybe a hot lunch?"

She looked at the fat rabbits hanging off his belt, then down at the bag of plants. She hadn't had meat in days and suddenly her vegetarian diet seemed less appealing. So she agreed –for just one meal –and followed the lanky boy through the woods back to his house, which was only a few streets from where her home once stood. The home looked just like hers and her heart thudded loudly in her chest at the memory.

"Vick Hawthorne, you leave your sister alone, you hear me?" A woman's voice rang out from the house. "I'm aware she's still crying, but that doesn't mean you have to make things worse!"

"Ma?" The tall boy called as he entered the back door. He plopped the rabbits down on the table and called to his mother again.

A woman, so similar in looks to her son, entered the kitchen with a sniffling toddler holding on to her skirt. "Gale, I'm glad you're home. And what a haul today. Oh, my boy, even enough to thank the Gods for keeping our family safe after the storm." She paused when her eyes flitted over to where the young girl was hiding behind her son. "What else have you brought home, Gale?"

Gale smiled and stepped to the side. "Ma, this is...uh..." he turned to her. "What did you say your name was, again?"

"I gather...plants and berries. Gale thought you might want to trade?" She held her bag open for Gale's mother to inspect.

The older woman gave her son a very pointed look. "A trade. For berries? Gale, what else did you have in mind?"

"Ma, she's all alone. Her family was most likely killed in the flood."

"And she was spared? The Victors must have forgotten about her then."

Gale shook his head. "You always told me the Victors don't forget people, remember?"

"Then they have a reason to spare her life, it's best that we don't question their methods or interfere with their plan. That's how people get in trouble. I'm sorry, Gale, I know you want to do the right thing, but in this case, I think it's best if we-" she turned. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Gale asked, following behind his mother as she swept through the house to his baby sister's room. "Woah."

There, kneeling by the infant's crib, was the girl from the woods, brushing the child's hair off her face and singing a soothing lullaby. Posy, the baby, had been crying nearly non-stop since she was born, and there was little any of the Hawthornes could do to calm her. Yet this stranger, the girl with no name, was able to do so with a simple tune.

Gale turned to his mother with a smile. She shook her head. "Gale, there are already so many mouths to feed between you three kids...and we have no extra room for another child..." And, against her own reasoning, Gale's mother shook her head. "What is your name, child?"

The girl looked away from the baby.

"Well if you're going to be a member of this family, we need to know what to call you."

"Katniss," she answered quietly.

"Catnip?" Gale laughed. "That's an unfortunate name."

"Kat-NISS," she shot back.

Gale's mother smirked. "I'm Hazelle. You already met Gale and Posy," she nodded toward the crib. "And this is Vick." Hazelle pulled the child from her skirt. "Katniss, if you'd like to stay, we'd like to have you."

Katniss smiled and nodded, accepting the gracious offer and sending a silent thank you up to the Victors for providing her with a home. From then on out, Katniss Everdeen became a Hawthorne, fitting into the family dynamic as if she had always been a part of it. When she was older, Gale taught her how to hunt and they became expert partners, bringing home enough food to feed and protect their household.

"You and Hazelle always said I was protected from that flood for a reason, Gale," Katniss would say when they'd go hunting.

"Yes, but we don't know what that reason is. If we did, we'd be Victors."

"I'm going to ask them someday," she'd answer with such a finality that Gale often believed she thought she could. He was the only one who let her talk about such dreams, and only out in the woods. They would joke about what she would say, if she would battle Johanna, if she was afraid of Haymitch. There were many dreams they would share with one another, including the family he eventually wanted of his own, the sister she never knew. But there was one thing she knew she could never share with her hunting partner: the vision she always had of the Merchant boy who gave her bread.

Late at night, when she was unable to sleep, she would think about that bread. How warm it was in her hands. How it smelled when she broke into it and held it up to her nose. That first taste of nuts and berries nestled inside, bursting with each bite. One day, she knew, she would see him again, even if it meant begging the Victors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks always goes to Sunfish for her amazing beta work and friendship. This was written for FFLLs so it is complete. I'll likely update twice a week if I remember. If you've already read the story, please don't leave spoilers in the reviews so everyone can enjoy. I hope you all like reading this story as much as I have loved writing it. It's one of my favorite fairy tale adaptations and I was lucky it worked so well with THG.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr - mitchesbcray or passionatelycuriousff. :)


	3. Chapter 2

By the time Katniss was 17 and Gale nearly 22, the pair was inseparable, fueling talk amongst the villagers of their impending nuptials. Everyone quickly learned her story: the orphan girl saved by the Victors, daughter of the Songbird and Merchant outcast. A creature that never should have been yet somehow survived and thrived. A Mockingjay who dreamed too big.

Katniss, for her part, paid no attention to the rumors. Gale was her brother, her hunting partner, her friend. But her lover? Future romantic interest? She had never given thought to being his wife, nor he to being her husband, she was sure. He'd never shown her anything more than friendly affection. He would tease her occasionally, but was that any different than how he teased Vick or even Hazelle? Besides, Katniss had an inkling she was meant for something greater.

Gale knew this, always had, even if he had become less approving of such things as he aged. Where he used to laugh and encourage her to share the silly dreams and wishes that floated around her brain, he now shushed her. "The Victors gave you a chance at life, Katniss," he would say. "Don't be so brash as to expect anything more from them. They will take it all away as quickly as they provided it to you." Oftentimes, he didn't even respond, but instead ignored her, growling and insisting that she was scaring off the game with her musings. She didn't point out that his ramblings against the Merchant class he traded goods with were far worse, since at least she was expressing some semblance of positivity toward the Victors, and it was Johanna's favor they needed to win in order to have anything to shoot. Instead, she learned to keep her mouth shut and her dreams to herself.

It became harder at sixteen, though, which was when he finally agreed to take her with him on his trades. They stealthily made their way through the forest toward the back end of the wall that separated the parts of town. Gale had fastened a camouflaged covering over the gap so no others could find it and trade with the Merchants.

She smirked when he pulled back the covering. "Please tell me this isn't why you've left me at home during your trades, Gale."

"It's dangerous for our kind on their side, Catnip," he told her in a serious tone. "Especially for a girl like you."

"What do you mean, a 'girl like me'?"

He shook his head at her. "Just, trust me, okay? And keep your wits about you. I don't trust these Merchant boys, they only want one thing."

She snorted and ducked through the wall. The other side was like nothing she had ever seen before. While the homes in the Seam were too small and on the verge of collapsing with every gust of wind, the Merchants Quarters were mansions in comparison; each could house at least four Seam families with room to spare. There were lush green lawns, all perfectly manicured and bursting with colorful, exotic flowers. Small white pebbles lined the long driveways full of cars that shimmered in the bright sun. Pale-faced children shrieked and ran through the grass, blonde hair trailing behind them without a care in the world. Well-fed women sat on their porches sipping fruity beverages underneath large hats that covered half their faces. It was a world Katniss couldn't have created even in her wildest dreams. The Seam always seemed so dull and distant while the Merchant class was teaming with life.

Gale's hand on her elbow pulled her from her stupor. "Come on, let's get started. First stop is the Mayor's house."

Katniss followed closely behind Gale as he made his trades. Strawberries at the Mayor's house, different plants and herbs at the pharmacy, rabbit and pheasant for the shoemakers and tailors. On and on through the back alleys of the Merchant class, he would knock on doors in a specific pattern and Merchants would silently hand him bags of coins or cloth or any variety of objects in exchange for their goods. Most looked upon Katniss in confusion, having dealt with only Gale since he was a young man, but generally ignored her. A few gave the pair a knowing wink and added slightly more to their trade than usual.

It was one particularly unsavory Peacekeeper who paid her any specific attention. He leaned against the door frame as Gale pulled a wild turkey from his bag.  _This must be Cray_ , she thought, remembering what Gale had quickly taught her about who wanted what. Cray loved turkey and made the best trades in town for it, but was not Gale's favorite stop. Already, it was Katniss' least favorite as well. She wished she could hide behind Gale's frame to block Cray's uncomfortable gazing over Katniss' body. She wasn't particularly pretty, still slim with few curves, dirty and in men's trousers, her long braided hair tucked under her cap. Cray set the sack of coins in Gale's hand and reached for the turkey.

"Hold on," Gale countered. "This isn't our usual trade. Cray, we've had a long-standing deal."

Cray smirked. "It's a pretty scrawny bird, Hawthorne. Why should I pay full price for less than a full turkey?"

Gale clenched his jaw. "I didn't charge you extra last time with that particularly fat one, remember? It evens out."

"I'll tell you what," he responded, rubbing his stubbled chin. "I'll give you the full amount for the turkey." Katniss let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad to be almost out of this man's doorway. "If you agree to sweeten the deal."

Gale stiffened. "What did you have in mind?"

Cray smiled, his beady black eyes shining in a way that made Katniss' skin break out into goosebumps. "Full price for the turkey. And the girl."

Katniss gasped. Was Cray suggesting what she thought he was? Surely he didn't mean for Gale to trade her for some coins. Of course, some families in the Seam were so poor and desperate that they did often sell their children into the Merchant workforce, as servants for families, or employees for the many shops. Sometimes the choice was made by the child themselves, abandoning their families and the Seam for work. Or worse. There were stories that young, attractive Seam boys and girls were sold as 'personal assistants' to the wealthiest of Merchants. On the surface, being owned by a Merchant family always seemed like a viable option until you realized that it meant you could never go back home. Once you fully went to the Merchant side, you were disowned by the Seam. Gale seemed to be the exception, since he saved part of his haul to distribute among the Seam folk as well.

"What do you say, Girlie?" Cray asked, cocking his head to the side. "How'd you like a full belly every day and plenty of money to send home to your family? It'd be real easy work." He ran his tongue over his cracked lips.

"I'd never work for you in a million years, no matter how hungry I may be," she shot back, disgusted at the mere thought of being this man's whore.

"Real shame. I could do a lot to protect that little...family...of yours," he answered, glaring at Gale, who took a large step to the side to shield her.

"Forget it, Cray. I'll find someone else to sell the turkey to. Consider this our last exchange." Just as Gale was stuffing the turkey back into his bag, Cray stopped him.

"Don't get your skivvies in a twist, Hawthorne. I'll take the damned turkey and you can keep your...partner." He yanked the turkey out of Gale's hand and added a few extra coins onto his payment. With one last look at Katniss, Cray turned back into his home and slammed the door shut.

The pair walked silently to their final stop, the bakery. All Gale had left to trade were a few squirrels, which Katniss was sure wouldn't be sufficient. The bakery was one of the finest shops in town, owned by one of the most well-off families. No way would a couple squirrels be worth anything to them when they had such easy access to real meat. But when Gale gave his rhythmic pattern on the door, a large man with a receding blonde hairline and blue-grey eyes smiled at them.

"What do you have for me today, Gale?" The baker wiped his hands on his apron as Gale opened his game bag and pulled out the last of the haul. The baker inspected each of the squirrels, turning them over in his large hands. He glanced at Katniss and his smile dropped. Had she not been watching him so carefully, she would have missed the discrete change in his expression, for he quickly covered it back up. "These look mighty fine. Any requests today?"

"Just the usual," Gale answered in a short voice. It was clear that the exchange with Cray left him more bitter than usual toward his Merchant clientele.

"Gale!" Katniss whispered as the baker turned to fill a bag with bread. "Why didn't you ask him for any of that bread Posy likes? You know her birthday is coming up."

"I just want to get out of here," he answered. "Besides, that bread is too expensive for a few measly squirrels. We take what we can get."

The baker returned and handed them a white paper sack filled with rolls and loaves of bread. Before Gale stuffed the sack in his game bag, Katniss caught a faint whiff of the products and was filled with a memory from her childhood. She couldn't recall much, but that scent was so familiar, so comforting. "Thank you," she caught herself saying, before realizing they didn't say 'thank you' to the Merchants. In fact, in many homes, Gale said nothing at all. But this baker, with his fair skin and hair that should have curled if it were longer, was no ordinary Merchant to her.

Gale and Katniss quickly made their way back through town to the hole in the fence when she heard the name that called to her in her dreams.

"Peeta!"

She turned her head back toward the bakery where the baker called. A young man with thick curly hair and bright blue eyes she could see even from the distance, came running up to him.  _The boy with the bread_. As if he could read her thoughts, at that moment he looked over to her, blue eyes latched onto her grey ones, and their worlds stopped. She could hear no birds, no laughter, no sounds of cars racing through the Merchant streets. There was no wind, no earth, nothing but him. A vision came to her, an olive skinned daughter with raven hair and blue eyes. A pale son with wild blonde curls and coal grey eyes. Running to their father, to him. In a flash, the vision disappeared and she turned her head from his, unable to hold his piercing gaze any longer. She caught up with Gale and slipped back through the wall, into their forest, into their world. Into the Seam.

* * *

"Hazelle wants me to stop hunting," Katniss told Gale a few weeks later, as they were sitting on a rock, eating handfuls of blackberries.

"Oh?"

Katniss nodded. "She says no respectable man would marry a woman who can shoot better than he can. That I need to learn to become a good wife if I don't want to end up alone."

Gale laughed. "What did she have in mind?"

"Sewing, gardening, laundry, cooking. Things that a woman could do at home while tending to the babies, no doubt." Katniss snorted. "Too bad I'll never be one of those women."

"One of what women?"

"The kind that get married and have babies and suddenly have nothing better to do with their lives. Like I'm going to give up everything just because some man may feel inferior to me?"

"Don't you want to be of use to your husband?" Gale asked, popping a handful of berries into his mouth.

"Wouldn't I be more useful if I were hunting and bringing in meat?"

Gale shrugged. "Not if your husband was already bringing in meat."

"Please," she answered, rolling her eyes. "You and I both know the only man in the Seam who'd be bringing home that much meat is you." Gale fell silent, watching Katniss as she leaned back on the rock, letting the warm sun wash over her skin. "Do you ever wonder if maybe you're meant for something bigger than all of this?"

He leaned back on his elbows and brushed some hair out of her face. "Bigger than what?"

"This," she said. "This life we have here in the Seam. We hunt, we gather, we get married, we have babies, we make tributes to the Victors, we die. Don't you ever wish for something more?"

Gale sighed. "Katniss, the only thing I wish for is the safety of my family. That means plenty of game, no holes in my nets, and good trades. It's not always wise to wish for more; that only upsets the Victors and makes us seem ungrateful."

Katniss picked at a few blades of grass. "I guess. But...but if we're meant for something more and all we do is live this little existence, aren't we doing the Victors a disservice?"

"If the Victors have more in store for us, they will provide it to us. It does us no good to go searching for such things. Besides, this is where the Victors led you, so this is where you belong. With me. With us."

She sat up quickly. "No, Gale, I don't believe that. They saved my life for a reason that day, me over any of the other villagers who died. They wouldn't have gone through such trouble to save a girl who was meant to live and die as a 'good wife' in the Seam."

"Well then," he answered with a chuckle, "why don't you just ask the Victors if you're so hung up on it? Maybe they can provide you with some direction."

She glared at him, unsure if his laughter was supportive or mocking. Either way, she wanted nothing to do with it at the moment. She shoved herself up off the ground and onto her feet. "That's exactly what I plan on doing." She took off toward the Seam, leaving Gale alone in the forest to finish checking the traps.

She stopped in at the small temple constructed for attempted communication with the Victors. Inside the Victor's Village was a series of candles, some designated for specific Victors, and others for more general purposes. Next to the candles were slips of paper. Tradition dictated that one simply write their name on the slip of paper and burn it in the candle flame of the Victor they hope to reach. Once the card is completely consumed by the flames, then you state your desire. If possible, you leave a small token of gratitude, thought to increase the odds that you will be heard and answered.

Katniss hadn't been prepared for such a stop and had little to offer the Victors, save for a small hunk of the Merchant bakery bread she hadn't eaten yet. She slipped into the temple, relieved to see it deserted of any other villagers, and scribbled her name,  _Katniss Everdeen_ , on the slip of paper. She lit a candle designated to reach any of the Victors and held the paper until the flames licked at her fingers. She watched the paper disintegrate into ashes and rise to the ceiling.

She stood at the table for a few moments, trying to best word her desire, until she realized that once the paper had burned, the Victors could just as easily hear her thoughts as well as her words. "Victors," she whispered, "it's Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I'm not sure if you remember me but I'm the girl you saved from the flood? A current washed me away from my home and into a tree. Hazelle and Gale tell me that you never do things without a greater purpose, that there is some reason you chose to save me. I've never known that purpose, but I've always imagined it's something...something bigger than this life I currently lead."

_Please, Victors, please show me my true path. I believe, today, after seeing a young boy in the Merchants Quarters that my destiny lies there, with him. You've sent a boy like him to me before, right after the flood. The boy who saved my life. That must be why we met so young, so I would know to look for him again. You brought me out and made me wait for twelve long years, without knowing what I was waiting for. Now I know. That boy is my destiny and now that I've found him, I'm ready to fulfill whatever purpose I may have. Oh, please, Victors, please hear my prayers. I've never asked for more than my share, is this so unheard of? A life as a Merchant with him?_

Johanna bit her knuckles to keep from laughing as the girl's prayers floated to the Victors. She tossed a piece of fruit to Finnick. "Are you listening to her? The poor Seam girl wants to marry a Merchant boy."

"'It's my destiny,'" Finnick mocked, taking a large bite out of the food. When have we heard that one before?" He rifled through a basket of offerings for a piece of sweet candy to chew on. "They're all the same, those Seam girls. They don't understand the balance."

Johanna picked up a shiny red apple and tossed it up and down in one hand. "I should find the biggest apple tree down there, pick one with a big, fat, ripe apple and drop it on her head. Maybe that would knock some sense into her."

"I could have a wave pull her into the river and drown her in reality," Finnick joked.

Haymitch took a long swig of his liquor. "One look at me would scare her straight, no doubt."

Annie sat on the edge of a fluffy cloud, letting her feet dangle over the edge. She cleared a space next to her, allowing the young girl's prayers through more clearly. When the girl finished speaking, there was a puff of smoke and a small hunk of bread appeared next to the Victor of Love. Annie picked it up and held the bread to her nose.  _I know this bread. I know the boy of whom this girl speaks. So young and full of love despite his age and his family._  "Give her what she wants," she said.

The laughter from the other Victors halted. "Give her what she wants?" Johanna asked, stupefied at the suggestion.

Annie turned, still holding the chunk of bread. "Yes. Give her what she wants, give her a chance to be with the boy. She had a point, there was something about her that called to me. That made it impossible for Haymitch to take her. She's a survivor, so she should be rewarded. And what greater reward is there than love?"

Haymitch snorted and Annie shot him a hard scowl.

"What? True love is an amazing thing. It can withstand storms, cross the earth, why, it can even conquer you."

"Love conquer death?" Haymitch asked, rolling his eyes. "Please. Do you know how easy it is to take a life? With one snap of my fingers, I can completely stop even the healthiest of hearts. Believe me, I've done it too many times."

"Stop it from beating, perhaps, but not from loving. Even you can't control that."

"You're being absolutely ridiculous, Annie."

Johanna and Finnick, who so rarely got involved in the debates between the more human of Victors watched in appreciation. Johanna cocked an eyebrow at her fellow Victor. "What do you think? Love triumphing over death? It's a very 'human' notion."

Finnick nodded. "It's interesting, no doubt."

"And more amusing than this fruit basket," Johanna concurred, kicking the basket and it's contents over. "Goodness knows we've been starved for entertainment recently, so perhaps this young girl can provide us just that."

"Send her on a journey," Annie suggested. "I will provide her the strength to love when the time comes."

Johanna shrugged. "I can get her to the Merchants Quarters. To that boy."

"I will test her survival skills," Haymitch sneered. "Make her choose between staying alive and loving some mortal boy."

Finnick rose to his feet and walked to the edge of the cloud, gazing down at the Seam below. "A storm could bring them together, as it did so many years ago." He turned to the other Victors and smirked. "Tonight?" And with a simple wave of his hand, dark thunder clouds began to form over the Seam.

"Tonight," the Victors agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As always, come visit me on tumblr at mitchesbcray :)


	4. Chapter 3

Ever since the day he spotted the two Seam traders in the Merchants Quarters, Peeta hadn't been able to get their piercing grey eyes out of his head, especially hers. He had seen such eyes before, as all of their servants and employees at the bakery –not to mention his friends' servants –had the same look about them: dark skin, dark hair, eyes all ranges of grey. But those ones that locked onto his, he had seen those specific ones before. The girl who sang for him had those eyes, he knew it the instant he saw them. They were the ones that crept into his dreams at night. That he saw every time he closed his eyes, even when he was with a blue-eyed Merchant girl.

“You worthless piece of garbage! How are we supposed to get everything ready for the Announcement Party if you can't even do your job properly?!”

Peeta winced as his mother's voice carried through the house, followed by a loud crashing sound. He knew that tone all too well, having grown up listening to her shout and holler at the hired help. It almost made him wish their family wasn't as well off as they were; maybe then the Seam workers would learn and stop answering his mother's help wanted ads. But the Mellark name carried a lot of weight and could pay handsomely if a worker survived and got under one of their good graces. Things had been significantly worse since she started planning this 'Announcement Party' that he knew he wanted nothing to do with.

He cracked open his bedroom window and crawled down the lattice that rested against the side of the house, needing to get away from whatever was brewing downstairs. He crossed the expansive lawn, fleeing to the one place he ever enjoyed – the bakery. It had been in the family since the first Mellark settled in this place, many generations ago; before the Dark Days that led to the wall being built, separating the Merchant and Seam folk completely.

The bakery was nearly empty when Peeta got there. He greeted the employees with a bright smile and snuck into the back room where his father was working. “Hey, Dad.”

“Peeta! What are you doing here?” His father asked, rolling out a lump of dough. It was rare, Peeta knew, for a Merchant to do any of the actual work in their store. And, honestly, the elder Mellark didn't really do much workas much as escaping. Like Peeta, he always felt more at home in the bakery than in the house he had been raised in.

Peeta shrugged. “I needed to get out. Mom was pitching a fit.”

“Ha! About what?”

“The Announcement Party,” he answered, rolling his eyes.

Mr. Mellark shook his head. “You're getting too old to run away from your responsibilities, Peet. Your brothers survived theirs. I survived mine. It's tradition.”

“But I don't wantone. That's what she doesn't understand, Dad. I'm only seventeen. Don't you think that's a little young for an Announcement Party?”

Mr. Mellark nodded. Peeta wasyoung. But his wife was not one to be trifled with once she made a decision. And he didn't have the heart to tell his youngest son that this party had already been pushed back a handful of times since he was 15. It was going to happen one way or another and the harder Peeta rebelled against it, the harder his mother would push right back. It was no use. Peeta would have his Announcement Party.

“Do you have anything I can do? I'm restless,” Peeta asked, hopping onto the counter and swiping a finger through whatever batter was in the mixer. “Could use some more vanilla.”

“That recipe is just fine, thank you very much,” his father answered, swatting his hand away. “And no, you know there's nothing for you here. They've got some deliveries to finish up before we close but that's it.”

Peeta nodded and hopped off the counter. “Maybe I can convince one to let me do a delivery. And trust me about that vanilla.” He wandered back in front and checked the delivery slips.

“Mr. Mellark, is there something I can help you with?” One of the employees asked in a nervous tone.

Peeta turned and saw that all the employees were staring at him. “Uh, well, I had to run some errands across the Quarters, so I figured I'd see if there were any deliveries out that way that I could run on my way.” He flipped through the charts. “Ah! Here's one, to the Cartwrights. Is it ready to go?”

The man who first questioned him nodded and pulled the white Mellarks Pastries box out from under the counter and handed it to Peeta. “You're sure, Sir? Because it's Bristol's day to deliver, Sir, and he'll be back in no time to pick up the rest of them. They'll be delivered before closing, Sir.”

Peeta waved him off and pulled the delivery slip out. “Not a problem. This'll save him the trip across town. Maybe get you guys out early.” He grabbed the box and headed out front, yelling a goodbye to his father. He slid the box into the passenger side of his car and hopped in, peeling out from the parking lot of the bakery, making his way to the opposite side of the Quarters.

The delivery was easy enough. He was close friends with Delly, the eldest Cartwright daughter, when they were children, and everyone was sure they'd be engaged as soon as they turned 16. Her family was less upset when the engagement never happened; she was a pretty girl and garnered attention easily. Peeta's mother, on the other hand, gave him a black eye when she learned of Delly's engagement to another. The Cartwrights' shop was near the bakery, but like other Merchants, they lived away from the commercial square and rented the rooms above their shops to the employees.

After delivering the baked goods, Peeta decided a twilight drive was exactly what he needed. He was in no hurry to get back to his mother or the Announcement Party she would bore him with the details about. His brothers were both most likely occupied and wouldn't want him hanging around anyway. He drove down along the river road, turning his music up and escaping his reality. He was too busy drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to notice how dark the clouds ahead of him were. And too preoccupied with his hatred for his mother and her “traditions” to appreciate just how hard it was beginning to rain. It took a sharp left turn at speeds too fast to be considered safe on wet pavement to catch his attention, but it was too late. He smashed head-on into a tree, his airbag exploding upon impact and his car trapping him inside.

Katniss heard the screeching tires before anyone else did. Posy and Vick were both asleep, and Hazelle was doing laundry, unable to hear over the sloshing water in her bucket and the rain pellets outside. Katniss crept downstairs and peered out into the rain. A flash of lights nearly blinded her before she heard the loud crash and the lights went out. Without thinking, she flung herself out of the house and into the pouring rain, barefoot and dressed only in her nightgown. She sloshed through the mud, wiping as much water off her face as she could, racing to where only a dim light now shown.

She gasped and nearly fainted at the sight. A car –a Merchant's car –was smashed against a tree, completely totaled. Through the wreckage, she could make out just a small patch of blonde hair. “Help!” she cried. “A car has crashed!” She ran to the side to open the door but the crumpled front made it impossible. She wrapped her fist in the edge of her nightgown and punched the window, sending glass shards flying in every direction. Wiping off the sill, she climbed across to unbuckle the Merchant's seat belt and with adrenaline pulsing through her, she pulled him out through the window onto the grass beside the car.

 _I know this boy_ , she thought. She began wiping the blood from his face. _His skin is so pale._

His eyes fluttered open and he let out a soft moan.

 _Such blue eyes, like from another world._ Now that Gale let her trade in the Quarters, She had seen Merchants, but never like this. Blue, of course, but with speckles of green and grey in them. Was that what made them shine so brightly, these flecks?

Before he shut them again, he attempted to focus on her. _Yes. This is the boy_. He gives her a half smile. “Here to finish me off?” He mutters, coughing loudly. It's a joke, she's almost sure, but his eyes close and his breathing shallows.

“No!” She cried. “Please, someone help!”

“Katniss?” Gale's voice calls to her and through the rain, she can see his figure, along with many other Seam folk. “Katniss, what are you doing out here? What happened?”

“He drove like the devil was on his tail,” an elderly man piped up. “I watched it from my window. He was going too fast around the curve.”

“I'd say he got what he deserved, then,” another added. Katniss scowled at the onlookers and intertwined her fingers with the Merchant's.

The wind shifted suddenly and the storm passed. A few women let out uncomfortable cries. Instant weather changes meant only one thing to Seam folk: “Haymitch.” The name rippled through the crowd. “Haymitch is coming for the boy, no doubt. What do we do? Should we help him? Should we move him?”

“Leave him,” Gale commanded.

“But Gale-” Katniss cried.

“No, Katniss. Leave him. Even Merchants die. If Haymitch is to take him tonight, then we are not to interfere.”

She shook her head violently. “Gale, he needs care. I can help heal him.”

Hazelle was next to her then, resting a knowing hand on her shoulder. “If he dies in our hands, the Merchants will send the Peacekeepers after us. And if he were to survive, we'd be disobeying the Victor's rule. The only thing we can do is send him back to the Merchants. Gale and the others can carry him back to the gate. They will know what to do with him there.”

“No!” Katniss screamed. “I can save him! I can save his life! If you leave him at the gate he is no better off than here, by his own car. Please, Hazelle. Gale?”

It's the look Gale knew he could never turn down. It's the look that had convinced him to wait to propose to another girl because he was waiting on her. The way she's looking at this Merchant boy is how Gale always wished she'd look at him. But he also knows that look means she will stop at nothing to try to save him. “I will go search for his family, let them take him back.”

“Gale! No!” Hazelle begged. “They'll kill you!”

“Katniss,” he ignored his mother and pointed a firm finger in her direction. “You are to look after him, you understand me? He is yourresponsibility. If anything happens to him, it will be on you.” Katniss gripped his hand with her free one, her silent thank you, and Gale hated his body for filling with warmth at her touch.

“Mama, you go to Victor's Village. Prepare a tribute for Johanna. She will guide me on this quest. Go, now. Katniss, take the boy into the house.”

Two days later and no word had come from Gale about the Merchant boy's family. Katniss didn't relent her obligation, giving the unconscious boy as much of a sponge bath as she could manage without removing all his clothes, dressing his multiple wounds, including the deep thigh cut that seemed to be getting worse and worse. She tried to instruct Vick as to what plants she needed but he didn't have the same eye as his brother for such things, so she made due with what she could find around the house and Seam.

She tried to ignore the talk, but their whispers grew louder with each passing day. Saying she will have to answer to Haymitch, who was now angrier than ever for being cheated of his collection. The skies stayed black and ominous and the wind remained still. Hazelle attempted to coax food and tea down Katniss' throat, even offered to take over for a few hours so the young girl could sleep, but she was adamant. “He's my responsibility, Hazelle. You heard Gale.”

“Yes. Gale,” Hazelle confirmed. “Have you even considered what he may be going through? What his journey may be like because of your insistence to keep this boy alive?”

Truthfully, Katniss hadn't given much thought to Gale's journey. She assumed he'd recognize the boy as the baker's son and slip through the gap in the wall, straight to the bakery. Four days since Gale left, and still no word. But Katniss couldn't worry about Gale. Gale could take care of himself. He was smart, crafty, and had gotten in and out of plenty of scrapes in his life. Right now, she needed to take care of the dying Merchant boy.

He had developed a fever and no matter how many cool washrags Katniss applied to his burning skin, he sweated and shook constantly. The only remedy that seemed to help keep him calm was when she would sing to him late at night. “Sure as a wave needs to be near the shore, you are the one I was intended for. Deep in your eyes, I saw the Victor's design. Now my life is forever yours and you are mine.” He holds her hand more tightly when she sings, accepting spoonfuls of broth and soft fruit, and sips of water. And she swears she can hear him mumbling something before the fever takes over his body again. She rests her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat that proves he hasn't given up just yet.

“ _Katniss?”_

_She groggily opened her eyes and lifted her head, amazed to see his bright blue eyes, with green and grey specks, staring down at her. “You're awake?”_

“ _Thanks to you,” he said to her. “You saved my life.”_

“ _You saved mine.”_

“ _So we're even then,” he smiled. “My life is forever indebted to yours.”_

“ _And mine to yours,” she agreed. “This is surely a sign that we are meant to be together. The Victors brought you to me, just like they did so many years ago.”_

“ _When you sang, that was the first time I noticed you. And I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since.”_

_She flushed at his confession. “You've never noticed any other girl?”_

“ _Of course I have,” he answered. “But none made near the impression you did.” He cupped her face with his hand, running his thumb along her cheekbone, under her eye. “You're still so beautiful.” They moved together, bringing their lips to one another's. She ached to feel the plushness under hers, to taste him and smell him and be one with him. Inches apart, she could feel his warm breath on her lips and sighed. She had dreamed of kissing this boy for so long and now, through the most unlikely of circumstances, she was about to. Just as her lips felt the pressure of his, he was ripped away from her._

“Arrogant little brat.”

Katniss shot up, eyes wide open, staring at the physical embodiment of Death himself, Victor Haymitch Abernathy. He looked just as he did in the books and drawings she had seen of him. A paunchy, middle aged man with greasy black hair, skin slightly darker than hers, and deep grey eyes that, in the right light, could appear black and hollow. “Stay away,” she ordered.

“You think you can hold me back? Do you know who you're dealing with here, little girl? This boy is calling to me, pleading with me to take him, to show him mercy. And I would be more than happy to if it weren't for you. You keep dragging him back when all he wants to do is let go.”

“You can't take him from me.” She tightened her grip on his hand, never releasing eye contact from the feared Victor.

Haymitch laughed. “You'll learn to accept a few certainties in your life, Sweetheart. One is that you can't stop me when I'm here to collect. And this boy is up for collection. His life is mine.”

“No,” she whispered, as Haymitch drew nearer and nearer. She watched any remaining color from the Merchant boy's face drain with each step. She couldn't let him die, she couldn't. “I volunteer,” she called.

Haymitch stopped in his place. “What did you say?”

Katniss gulped. “I volunteer. Take my soul if you need one. Just leave his.”

“You're willing to give up your lifefor this boy you hardly know? Tell me, Sweetheart, why is that?”

“Because I...” she trailed off, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles, “...because we're meant to be.”

Haymitch cocked an eyebrow. “A pair of fighters, huh? Well, a deal's a deal. I'll release the boy and hold your life accountable. But know this – we've got eyes everywhere. And if, for one second, you doubt your love for him, even slightly, I will return and you will pay up.”

Katniss nodded, finally breaking eye contact to gaze down at the whimpering boy. “I understand.” In that moment, the boy opened his eyes slightly, his blue irises just peeking through his blonde eyelashes. “What is your name?” She asked. It was the only question she could think to ask, still shaking from her ordeal with Death.

“Peeta,” he croaked out of his parched throat.

“Peeta,” she repeated, confirming her memory and her dream. This was her boy. And now she knew they were designed to be together, if Death allowed them to live.

* * *

Gale didslip through the hole in the wall the night of the accident, even though it meant trekking across the Seam, because it was far safer than attempting to enter via the gated front entrance. All the Merchants were blonde, and he had no way to know who was missing a child other than to wander the streets for any shop still open, hoping there would only be a few.

Instead he was met by a host of Peacekeepers who promptly arrested him for trespassing on Merchant territory. He spent three days locked in a cell before a redheaded Peacekeeper, Darius, released him, warning him that he needed to just go home and not come back here at night. “Stick to your trades, Hawthorne.”

Defeated, Gale was prepared to return back to the Seam when a pair of broad, blonde men ran into him on the street, knocking him to the ground. “Out of the way, Seam Pig!” One spat, stepping over him. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Come to steal from our garbage?”

“No,” Gale responded. “There was an accident, just by the river. A boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, drove off the road. I came to find his family.”

“Peeta?” One of the men whispered in disbelief. “No one’s heard from him in days. Not since that day at the bakery.”

The other man stared down at Gale. “Rye, how do we know he's telling the truth and not just here to rob us like the Seam Trash he is?”

“Hush, Byron.” The first man held his hand out to help Gale up. “You know where Peeta is? Take us to him.” The boys led Gale through the main gates of the Merchants Quarters and followed him to his home where Katniss lay sleeping, her head on his hot chest.

“That's him.” One of the men handed Gale three gold coins. “Thank you. For taking care of him and finding us. We'll get him home and to a proper healer.”

Katniss held tightly to his hand for as long as she could, hating the cold, lifelessness that followed the loss of contact. It didn't matter. The boy she had been dreaming about for all those years was now hers. And she was his. And it didn't matter what happened, she would find her way back to him. _Peeta_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to Sunfish for her amazing beta skills. Let me know what you think on here or tumblr at mitchesbcray! :)


	5. Chapter 4

“My mama says you're a cursed soul for helping that boy!"

“Your mama is a fool!”

“You're the damned fool, Katniss Everdeen! You and that pathetic family of yours!”

“You don't say a word about my family!”

“Ow! Let go of me! You crazy girl! Let me go!!”

“Finnick's Trident, ladies!” The shrill voice of their teacher rang out and made everyone freeze. “Katniss Everdeen, you let go of Leevy's hair this instant, young lady. This is a classroom, not a street brawl. And Leevy Morgan, step back and keep your mouth shut. All of you! To your seats!”

Katniss reluctantly withdrew her fingers from the tangled mess of Leevy's dark hair and pushed the other girl away so hard that Leevy stumbled into a nearby desk. Katniss' triumphant smirk fell when she saw their teacher glaring harshly at her. She sat in her seat with a thud and scowled. _Stupid Leevy Morgan, stupid Leevy Morgan's mother,_ she thought, bitterly. She glanced over at Leevy, who promptly stuck her tongue out. Katniss rolled her eyes in return _._

“Now then, everyone else have a seat, we can begin today's lesson. Coincidentally for the two fighters, today we'll be learning about the history of our district.” The teacher turned to the blackboard and in large, looping letters wrote out the words _Seam_ and _Merchant_. “Now, who can tell me the origins of Seam folk and Merchant folk?”

Seam people were the original settlers of the district, and they had survived here for many generations, content to stay isolated from the rest of the world. The original Merchants were Capitol citizens, part of a tyrannical government that tried to take over the world but ultimately self-collapsed under it's own regime. These settlers were lower class citizens who, fed up with the harsh rules and punishments, set out to find a land of their own. The teacher passed around old pictures and copies of paintings of these original settlers. Even through the creases and yellowing paper, Katniss could see how much the current crop looked like the older ones, with the exception of their eyes. The original Merchants had shining greenirises.

“Why did their eyes change color?” Katniss asked, passing the prints along.

“Good observation, Katniss,” the teacher commented. “When they first arrived, the Merchants were met with trepidation but ultimately were welcomed. They shared their knowledge and resources and we shared ours. We lived separately, but there was no wall or physical barrier between the groups like there is now. Seam and Merchant traded openly, worked side by side if needed, helped one another when necessary. There were even cases of Merchants and Seam intermingling, without consequence or stigma.”

Katniss knew such consequences existed now. Her mother was banished from her Merchant family for falling in love with her Seam-born father. As a result, the newlyweds struggled for many years to save up enough money to survive, and Katniss and Primrose never met their grandparents. Their mother rarely told them stories of her youth, and never showed them pictures or drawings of her own family.

“A handful of such unions resulted in children with darker features – particularly in the eyes. Blue eyes became the way these Merchants could show a separation from their Capitol ancestors, so it became favorable. Over many generations, green eyes faded out and blue eyes became the dominant trait. With that, many of the Merchants' skin darkened somewhat from the typical alabaster white they originated from.”

_Peeta still had such pale skin_ , Katniss realized. _Did that mean his family didn't 'intermingle' like the others did?_

“The older, wealthier families, of course, selected their breedings to give them only the desirable eye pigmentation, without the change of skin tone. These are the families that survived the Dark Days, which is why darker Merchants are no longer seen,” the teacher continued.

“The Dark Days? My grandfather called it The Rebellion,” a boy said.

The teacher nodded, pushing a strand of her silver hair behind her ears. “Yes, the Rebellion came first, followed by the Dark Days. The Capitol wasn't happy about its residents moving to the outlying districts. They thought they were going to build up an army to take down the Capitol.”

The boy furrowed his brow. “Were they?” Other than the fact that they happened, little was taught about the Rebellion or the Dark Days until the final year in school. Katniss never understood why they couldn't knowwhat exactly happened, but Hazelle told her it was because some things were best left unsaid until they could rightfully be understood. She thought it was patronizing, implying that a 12-year-old couldn't understand or process a war, but she never told anyone that.

“They despised the wars the Capitol insisted upon, so they left to get away from such a life. But the Capitol was greedy and short-sighted and didn't believe it. They invaded the district and despite their size and strength, the district fought back, Merchant and Seam side by side, and won. But damage had already been done. The entire district was destroyed by the bombs and firepower of the Capitol army and needed to be rebuilt,” The teacher sighed. “To make matters worse, the Capitol sent out horrific propaganda during the rebellion, referring to the Seam as 'rodents' and 'diseased' and 'less than'. Any Merchant with mixed Seam blood was labeled a 'Mutt' and treated as a second class citizen.”

Despite having won, the physical toll of rebuilding the district became too much for many to handle, and they bought into the Capitol propaganda. Previously-heralded Merchants whose skin tone was deemed “too dark” were cast out into the Seam. Merchants began shutting their doors to Seam traders, ignoring their pleas, and eventually built the looming wall around their Quarters, the final act of separation.

“But with their blue eyes, didn't they all have some...they hate us because of what we look like?” A girl asked in a quiet voice.

“We remind them where they're from. Even though the Capitol's destruction was for the best, it took many generations for that to be apparent. And the anger never really dissipated, the stories about the Rebellion and the Dark Days became more and more harrowed. They've never forgiven themselves, or us, for what happened. The longer they remained isolated from us, the more like Capitol citizens they became.”

Although the lesson continued after that point, Katniss could no longer focus on anything other than what their teacher confessed to them. The physical differences between the Merchants and Seams were as evident as the wall that separated them. The older the family, the more distinct they looked. She recalled how pale Peeta’s skin was that night in the rain, how clearly his blue eyes shone, without even a hint of grey in them. His curls were so soft, not like her own coarse hair, she realized, playing with the end of her braid. His eyelashes were so long and blonde she recalled wondering if they ever got tangled. 

From what she could remember, her mother’s light features were quite similar, and Katniss suspected her sister, Prim, would have looked the same. All Katniss knew about her mother’s Merchant family were the basic things that most families knew. She came from an old family of healers who deserted her when she broke off her previously arranged engagement to a man from an equally old and wealthy family in favor of Katniss’ father.

The similarities between her mother and Peeta made Katniss suspect that his family must be just as old and wealthy as her mother’s. Internally she snorted, _what if it was Peeta’s father who her mother was originally engaged to?_ They would have both been at the appropriate age for an engagement at the time and potentially the same standing. The idea was a little much for the teenager to handle, and she preferred to think about her and Peeta rather than their parents’ unlikely relationship. 

She knew the increased talk about Merchants amongst the Seam folk was entirely due to her and Peeta, and for once, she kept an ear open, hoping to pick up any news about his health. From the women who frequented the Hob market, Katniss learned a lot over the weeks that followed his return to his home. Peeta Mellark was the youngest son of the man who owned the bakery. As she suspected, the Mellarks were one of the oldest families in the district. 

"You know there were Mellarks who came straight from the Capitol, don't you?"

"The boy's mother's family, too."

"Those sons are the closest things to pure-bred Capitol anymore."

_Anymore_ , Katniss thought bitterly when the gossiping old women would just look at her and sigh. _Perhaps they're referring to my mother._

"It's a shame about the brothers, though. Married off to proper families and only able to produce girls."

"Byron's brother was similar, remember? The Mellark clan has always depended on the youngest to protect the name. That one that was here will no doubt be the only one to have sons."

"So long as his mother selects the perfect wife for him."

"I've heard the boy had turned away all proposed admirers."

"More likely he's just being a young boy, wanting to have as much...fun as possible before settling down." The old women cackled and hooted, and a few men even snickered.

"Not that marriage has ever stopped a Merchant from taking his pleasure elsewhere. Everyone knows that it was a Mellark who first fathered a bastard Seam child. Perhaps it still runs in the family.”

"Now hush," a bony woman shushed the gossipers. "Those are only rumours and they're none of our damn business." The bony woman caught Katniss' eye and winked. She flushed and quickly completed her purchases, the women's words still buzzing about her head.

The walk back to the Hawthorne home was far too short for Katniss' liking, especially when she overheard Hazelle and Gale’s conversations about her helping Peeta. Hazelle never forgave her for disobeying her instructions and bringing the "marked boy" into her household and had been overindulging the Victors, hoping they would forgive the thoughtless child and take pity on her family. Gale hadn't been standing up to Hazelle concerning Katniss; he hadn't said much of anything since he returned that night. Katniss just couldn't stand to hear any more about the situation from anyone. They didn't know what her destiny was, they didn't know what she and Peeta shared in those brief moments they spent together. Their talk was deafening and overbearing and made her want to just scream and run away.

Which is exactly what she did. After creeping into the house to drop off the purchases from the Hob, Katniss slipped away into the forest for some solitude. Far from the Hawthorne residence, from anyone in the Seam, really, she closed her eyes and let the sounds of her peaceful environment take over. She knew she was destined for something greater than being just like Hazelle, mindlessly fearing the Victors and hating anyone who was different. The Victors saved her, didn't they? They saw something in her even if she herself didn't understand it. What set her apart from all the others who died that day in the flood? From her mother who so selflessly gave up her comfortable existence for love? From her baby sister who was too young to have ever wronged the Victors, no matter how loudly she would cry? Or even her father, who should have hated the Merchants more than anyone else, but never taught her such evil? Who, despite her young age, taught her that everyone in the district had been hurt by the Capitol at one point, and that the Merchants were just unaccustomed to a different lifestyle?

_"Remember my little Katniss, they have grown up with their own way of thinking. No one has ever challenged them before or shown them that what they're doing is wrong. They do not understand us just as we do not understand them."_

_"But Papa, why hasn't anyone shown them?"_

_"Because everyone is too scared of what might happen."_

As a toddler, she didn't understand what he meant. What could anyone be scared of in the Seam, other than Haymitch? But Haymitch was just as natural as any of the other Victors; he was just a part of life.

_"Why does everyone fear Haymitch, Gale?" Katniss asked. At 10 years old, she understood the Victors, knew their place in the lives of the Seam folk, and that tributes must be paid to appease them. But no one in the Hawthorne household ever really talked about them in such human terms._

_Gale and Katniss were walking toward Victor's Village after the funeral rites of a neighbor. Tradition in the district dictated that after any death, neighbors and close friends sent prayers to Haymitch for the deceased to be taken safely to their afterlife, whatever and wherever it may be. "Because Haymitch is the Victor of Death, Catnip," he answered using the affectionate nickname. "He takes us from our loved ones to places no one knows anything about. We fear the unknown. It's only natural, I guess."_

She couldn't keep track of how many treks the pair made together to Victor's Village. How many times they paid tribute to Haymitch for protection. To Johanna for a bountiful forest. To Annie, thanking her for new births and happy marriages of their people. The tributes to Haymitch were always the most unsettling for Katniss, not because she feared him, but because everyone else did. Having lost her family so young but being spared herself, she wondered if Haymitch didn't have a bit of a soft side, that he was simply doing what was expected of him. She was his reprieve, his salvation from carrying around one more soul.

_"Do_ _ you _ _fear Haymitch?" Katniss asked Gale when she was 15. Posy had come down with the measles and it was a particularly tense time for Hazelle. Trips to Victor's Village were made more frequently._

_"I fear death, yes. But death is what makes life, I suppose. Without the constant knowledge that we will someday go with Haymitch, we cannot fully enjoy the gifts around us. What else makes life worth living?"_

_Katniss always thought Gale was one of the smartest men she ever knew. He was deep, insightful, thought about things in a way no one else in the Seam seemed to. It was no wonder he was always her best friend, as neither took things at face value. In that moment, she saw his flaw. What else makes life worth living other than death? "Love."_

She surprised herself with declarations like that. She was not a particularly outgoing and cheerful person; she was withdrawn and quiet most of her young life. But love was always with her. She loved her own family, obviously. And she loved the Hawthornes as her second family, for taking her in despite the odds and the situation. And she loved Peeta. Peeta, the boy who knew nothing about her but was drawn to her singing voice when they were children. Peeta, who gave her an entire loaf of bread all to herself even though she remembered how longingly he looked at it, too. Peeta, who came back into her life in the most unforeseen ways but yet was so obviously meant for her to find him. Peeta, who she traded her soul and life for without hesitation because she felt a hunger stirring in her that she never felt before when she cared for him. It was love, it had to have been. Haymitch had begrudgingly accepted her trade. Was her love for Peeta more powerful than the fear of death? She was willing to die in that moment so the beautiful Merchant boy wouldn't.

_What am I supposed to do? You bring him into my life and rip him out just as quickly!_ She was angry now. Angry at Leevy and her schoolmates and her teacher for their history lesson. Angry at the gossiping old women in the Hob for their rumors and salacious words. Angry at Hazelle and Gale for not defending her like a family should. Angry at the Victors. Yes, that was where most of her anger was rooted. With the Victors who were teasing her, playing with her, making her believe she was something special when they never intended for her to be. And she had traded her life away for their games.

"Why did you save me only to take my life now?" She screamed at the skies. "What was so important about that night and that boy and me?! ANSWER ME!"

She sunk to her knees in the middle of the forest and covered her face with her hands, letting out a muffled sob. “Help me,” she whispered into her hands. “Please.”

A soft wind blew around her, enveloping her in its peaceful existence, filling her spirit with something she couldn’t explain. A warmth filled her, slipping into every crevice of her body until she was overwhelmed with a sense of euphoria. She lifted her blotchy face and waited for her eyes to adjust to the bright sun. Here in front of her was a sight she never thought she’d see again: the tree that she sought refuge in after the flood. She quickly rose to her feet and walked toward it, running her hands over the bark. Much like herself, it wasn’t anything special, but she knew this was hertree.

She circled it. Once, twice, before hoisting herself up onto a low branch. Settling herself against the trunk, she conjured up the memories she formed here. How scared and small she was and how much bigger the world seemed. She didn’t understand anything back then, where she was or where she fit in. Sitting on this branch, it hit her that nothing in her life had changed. She still felt scared and small. The world was still so much bigger than she knew. She had no clue what she was supposed to be doing or how she got here. Then it was all she could do to survive, which she did. Thanks to Hazelle for taking her in. And Gale for finding her. And...and Peeta for giving her that bread and keeping her company as she mourned the loss of her family.

_Peeta._

The name whipped around her as if being carried on air.

_Peeta._

_Peeta._

“Peeta,” she whispered back. “Peeta.”

The world may still be too big for a little Seam girl to fully understand, but she finally discovered her place in it, her destiny. Peeta. She broke out into a laugh that nearly knocked her off her branch. _Thank you,_ she thought, letting her eyes flit up toward the heavens. _Thank you._ She swung down to the ground and made her way home, fire blazing deep inside her with what she knew she must do.

“Oh, Katniss, I’m glad you’re home,” Hazelle welcomed her as she walked into the house. “I was getting worried about you.”

When Hazelle kissed the top of Katniss’ head, a twang of guilt began to build in her stomach. Hazelle took to her like her own daughter; how could she just abandon this woman? And Gale, who was so much more than her brother. He was her best friend. Her partner. He was hers and she was his. Anything else was unthinkable. And yet, she knew she belonged to another, and he to her. “I was just out walking. Thinking.”

“Not too hard, I hope, Catnip,” Gale joked, tugging on her braid. Katniss rolled her eyes in response. “I’d hate to see you hurt that pretty little head of yours.”

Hazelle gave Gale a stern look which had them all smirking. “Gale, what would you say to taking Vick out hunting this weekend? I think it’d be good for him to learn. You won’t be around the house forever.”

Gale nodded. “Yeah, I could do that. Give the little guy some skills. What do you say, Katniss? Think we could handle one more?”

“Uh, yeah,” she answered, picking at the petal of some flower Hazelle had in a vase on the table.

“About that,” Hazelle continued, “Katniss, maybe it’d be best if you stayed home.” Katniss felt her mouth dry out and could hear her heart beating in her chest. “I just think 17 is well past the time when you should develop some sort of...skill of your own. Something that isn’t killing and carving up animals.”

Katniss took a deep breath, knowing that Gale was staring at one of them, either in disbelief or curiosity. Either way, she couldn’t stand to look at him. At either of them. She plucked another petal off the flower. “No, Hazelle.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Um.” She cleared her throat. “That won’t work for me.”

“And why ever not?”

Another petal. “Because, um, because I won’t be here next weekend. Uh. I’m...I’m going to find Peeta. I’m going to take care of him.”

In that moment,she wished that she hadn’t looked up at her adopted family. Into their faces and eyes, so full of emotions she couldn’t read. Sadness, anger, disappointment, confusion. Hazelle’s began to water and Katniss looked away. Hazelle was not a cryer –according to Gale she stayed strong when her husband died –so to see her breaking down was not something Katniss was prepared for.

“Catnip,” Gale said softly, cocking his head from side to side.

“And what if he does not want you, Katniss?” Hazelle croaked. “You know once you go over there you cannot return. You’d be leaving everything behind on a...” Her voice broke with each syllable, just as her own heart was.

“Please, Hazelle. Please, Gale.”

“What do you want from us, Katniss?” Gale asked, crossing the room and putting his steady hands on Hazelle’s shaking shoulders.

“Your blessing,” Katniss answered quietly. “I know this is what the Victors want for me, but I need to know you’ll let me go.”

“No,” Hazelle answered. “No, Katniss, I can’t...I...what can I say to convince you this is not a good idea? What if something were to happen to you over there? I won’t be there for you. Gale won’t be there, no one will be. If you fail, you’ll be all alone.”

“I can’t stick up for you in front of any of those other Merchant men, Katniss,” Gale reminded her. “And guys like Cray are a dime a dozen over there, especially when Seam girls cross completely over. Nothing will protect you.” 

Hazelle stood from her seat and began walking around the kitchen, refusing to look directly at Katniss. “It’s just...I took you in, Katniss. You’re a member of this family and the fact that you’re going to desert us now for some...some...some boy? I don’t know what to even think about it all.”

“I’m sorry, Hazelle, but you must understand. He is not just some boy,” Katniss explained. “This is something so much bigger than just him. This is what I was put here for.”

Hazelle bit her lip and wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. “Can’t you find a new dream? Something that will keep you here and safe? You’re young, still so young, to be throwing everything away for something you don’t even know is certain. There are boys here, Katniss, good boys who love you and can make you happy. If only you looked-”

“Mom,” Gale interrupted.

“No, Gale. She needs to know. To understand.” Hazelle countered sharply. “You have loved her for years and you would be the best match for her in the entire district. Don’t you think she deserves to hear that at least once before she deserts us all?”

“Gale?” Katniss asked, mouth slightly open in shock.

He smirked and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, Catnip. I love you. I want to marry you, keep you with me. I always have. It’s always been you.”

She slumped her shoulders. Everything was about love, all of this. And here she was, ready to throw away the only people who did love her unconditionally and unequivocally. Love could still be stronger than death here. Going to the Merchants Quarters was a type of death, after all. She’d never get to see her family again if she did. Could she really give up on that love for the love of one boy who may not even remember her? “May I be excused?”

She walked through the cramped house slowly, each step heavier than the last, until she made her way to her bedroom. She curled up under the blankets on her bed and stared at the wall, unblinking, unable to process everything that had happened.

The moon was just beginning to rise when she heard the bedroom door creak open. The bed at her feet sunk and the familiar pine scent of Gale filled her nostrils. “I’m so sorry, Gale,” she whispered.

He ran his fingers over her cheekbone, brushing the hair completely off her face. This intimate gesture felt too much like a father’s touch than a lover’s, but she would never tell him so. “I do love you, you know,” he repeated.

“I know.”

“Do you...do you love me as well?”

“Yes,” she answered, “but not in the same way.”

“Not like how you love him?”

She clenched her eyes shut. “No.” 

Gale sighed. “I suppose then, there’s not much either of us can do, is there?” He rose from the bed and began to fumble around her dresser drawers. She sat up, wiping her eyes clear, and watched as he began to fill a small backpack with her most precious possessions: the few mementos she had managed to scrounge from her old home, her favorite trousers, a few books she loved to read. “Do you remember how to make it to the old stone?”

“Gale? What are you-”

“You’d be better off going before full moon. You should be there by morning if you leave soon.” He smiled sadly at her. “Katniss, I can’t be second best to anyone and you deserve more than that. Who knows, maybe the Victors did keep you around for this reason.”

“Oh, Gale!” She launched herself out of bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

He inhaled deeply, memorizing her scent. “Just promise me something, Katniss? Promise me that you’ll survive. You’re strong. If anyone can do this, you can.” He leans in and kisses her gently. His rough lips pressed against hers for only a brief second. “I had to do that once.”

She smiled, her eyes watering at this gift he was giving her. “Gale, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“Just be happy. I love you, Katniss Everdeen.”

She nodded and opened the window in her bedroom, climbing out gracefully. He tracked her across the yard until he could no longer make out her small figure. _Oh Victors, please keep an eye out for her. She is so young and naive but so hopeful, so sure this is her journey. Please. For me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always - all my thanks go to Sunfish for her amazing beta skills. In honor of me being done with finals, I figured I'd post early. I'll also probably post more often because it's winter break and I'm bored. Please enjoy and let me know what you think :)


	6. Chapter 5

When she and Gale would go hunting, Katniss could easily traverse the forest between the Seam and Merchants Quarters. With her light tread and quick legs, she was often running ahead of Gale to track a deer or follow some invisible trail. She recognized paths and trees from their broken foliage and dropped berries. Without even trying, she had walked herself back to her former home earlier that day.

But the forest at night was a completely different world. A world she was not familiar with or comfortable in. Although it was a clear night and the stars and moon shone brightly in the cloudless sky, the lush foliage blocked all but a few slivers of light from creeping through. Katniss tried to use her other senses to figure out where in the forest she was, but every snapping twig or rustling leaf caught her attention and threw her off. She spun around in circles, cursing herself for not thinking ahead and leaving a trail behind her so she knew which way she came from and where to avoid. How long she had been out there, she didn't know, but long enough for the air temperature to drop down to an uncomfortable level. Katniss wrapped her arms around herself to try to retain any of her own body heat.

_You should try climbing a tree, Seam Girl. You're quite adept at that, aren't you?_

Katniss stopped in her tracks as a voice filled her head. She whipped around, trying to figure out where it was coming from, but there was no one around her. "Who's there?"

_Foolish girl._

"I've got a bow and arrow. I'm...I'm not afraid to shoot. Now show yourself!" She called, in as brave of a voice as she could manage.

_No you don't. You're completely unarmed._

Katniss felt her blood run cold. If the person knew she didn't have her weapons with her, they could see her more clearly. Which made her the prey.

_If you knew what was good for you, you'd think twice before threatening me._

"Who are you?" Katniss asked hesitantly. "You know I'm no threat to you so why do you stay hidden? If you don't fear me then come out and face me."

_As you wish._

Before Katniss' eyes, she watched as the plants and bark around the closest tree shifted and moved, coming alive in front of her. A woman's sharp face appeared first, then her long arms, complete with razor sharp fingernails, and legs, still covered in a layer of flora. She stepped out from the tree as if it were a doorway to another world. Her hair was short and as deep as the tree bark she emerged from. Cloaked in a flowing dress of feathers and animal skins, Katniss finally realized who she was. A Victor. The Victor of the earth.

"Johanna."

Johanna cocked her head to the side, her dark eyes taking in Katniss as a hawk would its next meal. The longer she was in the open, the more human-like she became. Her nails retracted and the plant life soaked into her skin. Her sharp, fang-like teeth rounded out. "You. You're the Seam Girl we saved?"

Katniss tried to keep her composure as Johanna circled her, taking in every inch of her body.

"You're the one who prayed to us about the boy." It wasn't a question. Johanna was simply making it clear what she knew about Katniss. "Haymitch was not pleased that night. You made many enemies, did you not?"

"Yes," Katniss answered, keeping her eyes on the ground. She followed Johanna's footsteps, noticing that the grass never shifted under her nimble feet. "But it was my dest-"

"Your destiny, yes we know," Johanna answered in a bored voice. "You seem so sure that you deserve something more than every other Seam Child. Why is that?" When Katniss didn't answer right away, Johanna stopped in front of her. "Answer me, child, or I will make sure you never see your precious boy again."

"You saved me," Katniss answered.

Johanna scoffed. "I didn't save you. I couldn't care less about you. Annie took pity on you, I suppose. She's a sap for a sad story. And yours, an orphaned child caught in the middle of a flood, crying for her mommy and daddy? Well you sure played those heart strings like a violin, didn't you?"

"That wasn't what I-"

"And then," Johanna continued, laughter rolling off her tongue, "you go through your life wanting and thinking you deserved something more than what you were already given."

Katniss felt the tears sting at her eyes. _Is this what the Victors think of me?_ " No, Johanna, I promise-"

"We saved your life, you damned girl. And even that isn't good enough for you. You ask for more. You ask for something that no one from your position has ever successfully received: a life with a wealthy Merchant boy." Johanna snapped at her. "What will you ask for once you have that? To avoid death? To rule the earth?"

"No," Katniss whispered.

"Speak up, child," she demanded. "You wouldn't shut up about your destiny, so here I am. Now speak up."

"No." Katniss repeated, raising her head to look the Victor in the eye. "I will not ask for more once we are together. He is all I need."

"I can see into your mind, you know. I know what you desire most. Don't lie to me, Seam Girl."

Katniss narrowed her eyes. If this Victor could see her every want, then she would know Katniss was not lying. With all of her being, Katniss wanted Peeta. She needed him. They were meant to be. "No." Katniss answered fiercely. "You are trying to trick to me. To get me to admit to something that isn't true. I will not play your games, Johanna. I want to cross through the forest to get to him."

"You need my help."

"I will wait for morning, if I need to."

"You'll freeze. You cannot pass without me," she countered.

"What must I do to gain your trust?"

Johanna cocked her head to the side again. Then, as she innocently adjusted the bag on Katniss' shoulder, she smiled. "All you have to do, Brainless Girl, is ask."

"Will you help me pass through the forest? To the Merchants Quarters?"

Johanna nodded and with a cackle, waved her hand to separate the leaves atop the trees, allowing for the moon and stars to shine through. "You're a hunter, are you not, Katniss Everdeen? You provide for your family that way?"

"Yes."

"I've seen you and your...brother out here before.” Johanna commented, staring up at the skies. “Ah, there it is." She beckoned for Katniss to come closer to her. "You see up there?" She flicked her wrist and the stars aligned to form the shape of a bird, clutching an arrow in it’s claws.

“What is that?” Katniss asked.

“It’s a mockingjay. A bit of a hybrid I muddled up when the Capitol tried to create their own version of my mockingbirds. They wanted ones that talked instead of sang. They didn’t know that when their talking mutants mated with my songbirds, they’d get birds that could only whistle. It’s the price you pay when you try to outshine the Victors.”

“So a mockingjay is...”

“The offspring of a beloved Capitol creature and beloved Seam creature.” She stared intently at Katniss. "You’re a bit of a mutt, though, if I remember correctly. Your mother a product of the Capitol and your father was from a long line of Seam folk.” She cocked an eyebrow. “So the offspring of Capitol and Seam creature...”

"That’s me?" Katniss asked in awe.

Johanna nodded. "It is a manifestation of what you desire most. It will lead you there. Stay steadfast and it will direct you to your Merchant Boy."

Katniss took a deep breath and stared up at her true spirit creature in the stars. It was still a frightening ordeal, traversing the woods in the dark with only the promise of a Victor – one who didn't seem to particularly like her –to guide the way.

_Do not worry,_ Johanna's voice filled Katniss' head again. _You have been respectful of my forest during your hunting trips. You have earned that respect back._

"Why are you in my head..." Katniss' words trailed off. Johanna was nowhere to be seen. "What?"

_Brainless, I'm part of the earth. I come and go as I please._ A patch of grass near Katniss blew against the wind.  _I'll keep my eye on you_.

Hitching her bag higher on her shoulders, Katniss took one more look up at her bird guide and headed in the direction of the notched arrow. She stumbled a few times, got turned around at least three more, and swore that Johanna was just taking her the long way to the Merchants Quarters, but she kept her eyes on the skies and pressed forward. Even as the sun began to rise, the huntress’ outline and direction were clearly visible.

A new day was beginning by the time Katniss reached an entrance to the Quarters. It was not Gale's way, but a clearing nonetheless. “What do I do?” She asked the air, not sure where Johanna currently was.

_First off, don't forget your shoes._

_Shoes?_ She thought. _What's wrong with the shoes I'm wearing now?_ She glanced down and immediately understood. Her hunting boots were caked in mud, plants, blood, and a host of other things from her time with Gale. Clean shoes would be necessary in the Quarters. Leaning against the wall appeared a brand new pair of boots, just like her old ones, but in far better condition. The leather still needed to be broken in, as did the stiff laces, but there would be time for that later.

_Now go and find that boy of yours, Brainless._

_Gee, thanks_ , Katniss thought, slipping through the hole in the wall. Unlike Gale’s entrance, this clearance lead directly into a busy street, which was bustling with cars and vendors beginning their day. She stepped into the street and was nearly run over by an oncoming car. She jumped back, wanting to slink into the shadows of the wall, wondering if this was the right decision. She could turn around now, hide back in the woods until it was later in the day and sneak back in then. Surely that would be safer than being unaccompanied out in the open.

"You there! Seam girl!" A man's voice called. Katniss recognized the crisp white boots and heavy footsteps of the district Peacekeepers and panicked. To run now meant certain death: Peacekeepers were not known for their kindness. But she had no papers, no Merchant to speak for her. "Why are you in town so early?" He shoved his gun into Katniss' chest, causing her to stumble backwards a few steps.

"I...I..."

"Spit it out, girl," he ordered harshly.

She looked up and from across the square caught sight of her salvation. A hand-painted storefront proclaiming the best breads and cakes. Mellark's. "I am employed," she lied. "At the bakery, Sir."

The Peacekeeper stared her down. "Papers?"

"I've only just started," she answered, hoping it would cover. "I don't have papers yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "You must be from the new batch that headhunter brought in. The bakery, you said?"

Katniss nodded.

"Very well. Come with me."

At the bakery door, a stern blonde woman stood with a heavy rolling pin in her hand. "Mrs. Mellark," the Peacekeeper greeted. "I have your new employee."

The woman –Mrs. Mellark –looked at Katniss like a piece of rotting meat. "Effie Trinket sent me her? I asked for a baker's assistant, not some sniveling girl. Come here," she ordered. She gripped Katniss' arms then chin, twisting her here and there. "You're a scrawny thing. How much can you lift?"

"I could easily carry my younger brother, ma'am. But I'm not sure what he weighs."

"And you are prepared to work now?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fine. Go round to the back and get your uniform."

Katniss nodded and hustled off, wanting to avoid the woman's gaze. Luckily, she was greeted in the back by the other workers and spent most of her first day away from any Merchants. The majority of her days were spent following orders and keeping her head down. She rarely talked, but rather listened carefully to the advice from the other Seam workers. Once she learned her own tasks and chores – including setting out all needed ingredients for the day, checking inventory, refilling trays, washing dishes, doing laundry, sweeping the floors, cleaning the kitchen, and anything else she was instructed to do – she kept entirely to herself. She lived in a room above the bakery with one other girl, but quickly found she had nothing in common with her, therefore any hopes of conversation with the bunkmate were squashed.

Instead, Katniss went through her daily routine with her head down and mind on finding Peeta. The bakery was the best for offering clues, as it was where she picked up little pieces of information from the customers who came in, always asking how the youngest son was doing. Days when Mrs. Mellark had coffee and biscuits with other women were Katniss’ favorites, even if it meant serving the matron herself. Because the workers never actually interacted with the Merchant owners or customers, as they were not be seen or heard while at work, Katniss could easily slip around the woman’s group, refilling coffees and clearing away used plates, while hearing about Peeta’s progress.

She was pleased to hear that he no longer spent most of his days sleeping, but his mother’s confession that his leg had still not healed properly worried her. Katniss knew it could easily be a sign of infection setting in and if he didn’t get the treatment he needed, he may lose it all together. From the sounds of it, the medicines used by the doctor in town were nowhere as effective as the traditional remedies of the Seam. She had a reference book of plants in her bag and had seen plants she recognized growing along the roads. If only she could get closer, she knew she could help him fight the infection.

“ _It’s your job to protect him, Katniss,”_ Gale’s words resonated in her mind. He may have only been referring to that time, but she knew better. Peeta was hers; her responsibility, her love, hers, now and forever. If only she could find a way to be closer to him.

Over the next few weeks, Katniss became the hardest worker at the bakery. She heard a rumor from her bunkmate that there was a position opening to work at the Mellark mansion and Katniss vowed to make herself the front runner for it. She worked harder and more efficiently, often picking up the slack from her fellow employees. More often than not, she caught the bakery managers keeping their eye on her, but she tried not to let it go to her head. They did not get the final say in who moved, she was sure. Instead she needed to impress the Mellarks themselves.

And impress them, she did, as a Peacekeeper soon knocked on the back door and directed her across town to the towering Mellark home. From the corner of her eye, she saw other Merchants craning their necks to see what was happening. Seam workers were moved in the shadows of night; certainly never in broad daylight unless they were being punished. Katniss made sure to gather handfuls of the plants she passed on the way, reciting the recipe in her head for the treatment she knew Peeta needed.

At the house, she is met not by a Mellark, but by a small, darker skinned girl who silently leads her to her new room.

"I'm Rue," the girl offers, opening the door to the servant's quarters. "You'll be rooming with me."

Katniss nodded, but since she didn't have any bags or belongings, felt incredibly awkward in the tiny room with the tiny girl.

Rue must have sensed it, because she quickly moved on to explaining Katniss' daily duties. Similar to the bakery, most of her chores involved cleaning. Laundry was done every Tuesday and Thursday, polishing the silver every Wednesday. Mondays and Fridays were to be spent cleaning the house, top to bottom. Saturdays were groundskeeping days. They got Sundays off, but were still to remain on the property –with the exception of an hour for church if there was any inclination –in case they were needed.

Rue was a nice enough girl. She worked as hard as Katniss, giving her hints and teaching her the tricks to getting all the work done to the Mellark standard. Rue was a soft-spoken child, only about twelve or thirteen, but would regale Katniss with stories of her family, who also lived in the Seam, only much further from the Merchants Quarters than the Hawthorne residence.

“I’ve been working here for nearly two years. That’s longer than almost everyone else,” Rue told her one morning while they were setting out the silverware in the second-floor dining hall to be polished.

“Why do so many people leave?” Katniss asked.

Rue glanced up at the ceiling where footsteps could be heard. “The Lady isn’t known for being too kind to the help. Most leave in the middle of the night. They just run off after they are paid and are never seen again.” A loud crash rings through the ceiling and the muffled yells of Mrs. Mellark soon follow. “You see what I mean? And that’s her dealing with her family.”

Katniss nodded but said nothing else. Over time, the two became very good friends, allies in the home. They developed a rhythm and cycle that aided both of them and the days when Rue had to assist one of the Mellarks personally were some of Katniss' loneliest. It was harder in the home than she anticipated. She was physically so close to Peeta, but still had no idea where he was.

“Rue?” Katniss asked one day while they were gathering laundry. “Do you know anything about the youngest son? Peeta?”

Rue snapped her head in Katniss’ direction. “Why would you ask such a thing?” She asked in a hushed voice.

“He...he was in an accident, in the Seam, not too long ago.” Katniss stared down at her fingers. “I...uh...he was found and cared for by a family there. I was just wondering, I guess.”

Rue gave her a nervous, but understanding, nod. “He’s alive. But...” A loud thump made them both jump. When heavy, hurried footsteps followed, Rue pulled Katniss into an abandoned room and hushed her.

“Will the memories every come back, Doctor?” A worried voice asked.

“It’s unclear at this point. He’s doing better, obviously, but still has some lingering amnesia. His hallucinations make me more nervous, Mr. Mellark.”

The first man sighed. “He keeps asking for that girl. He’s been asking about her since he’s been home.”

“Peeta’s been under a great deal of stress, Mr. Mellark,” the doctor countered. “His leg is still giving him problems, his fever has been on the rise, he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s depressed and angry and confused. I’m surprised he’s even still alive. We’ll keep an eye on him as best we can, but to be honest, it’ll take some sort miracle to save the boy.”

Katniss’ stomach dropped to her feet and she began to collapse. Rue wrapped her arms around her body as tightly as possible to keep her upright until the doctor and Mr. Mellark passed by. She opened the door and hurried Katniss to their bedroom to sit the girl down.

“Katniss? What is wrong with you?”

There was nothing wrong with her, nothing that needed help right away. Not like Peeta. Either his condition had gotten progressively worse since her time in the bakery or he was so poorly off that his mother wouldn’t admit it. Angry? Depressed? Amnesia? Calling out for a girl? Her head was spinning, the need to find him stronger than before. “Rue, I need to find Peeta. I can help him.”

Rue shook her head. “Katniss, no one except the personal assistants and senior workers are allowed on the third floor. And that boy hasn’t come down from his room since he was brought home.”

_Now go and find that boy of yours, Brainless._

“ _So we're even then,” he smiled. “My life is forever indebted to yours.”_

“ _And mine to yours,” she agreed. “This is surely a sign that we are meant to be together. The Victors brought you to me, just like they did so many years ago.”_

“I must help him, Rue. That is what we do. Help each other.”

Rue gave Katniss a reluctant smile. “You’re not like the others, are you, Katniss? Come on, we have to finish the laundry.”

Every Saturday, when Katniss joined the others on the grounds, she would scour the windows on third floor, hoping to catch sight of his blonde curls and entrancing eyes. Any movement would shift her attention from her work. And every Sunday, she would accompany the other Seam workers to their makeshift Victors temple and send pleas to the Victors –to care for him, to watch for him, to lead her to him. Afterward, she would collect more plants and mix them into broths and pastes and rubs that she would load into her backpack. Just in case.

It was late in the day on one seemingly random Saturday when the wind caught her braid just enough.

_Use your head, Brainless._

Katniss snapped her head from side to side when she spotted a tree with leaves that were blowing _just the wrong way_. Against the breeze. As if a supernatural force was behind it. Beyond the branches toward the house was a window. She had stared at the window before –she had stared at every window on the third floor many times before –but this time, rather than the normal beige curtains, sat a man with blonde curls. He turned his head to the side and as the setting sun caught his face, Katniss made out his features. That nose, the lips, his eyes. That was her Peeta.

That night, after Rue fell asleep, Katniss grabbed her backpack, snuck out of their bedroom window and raced across the lawn to the tree she found earlier. _You should try climbing a tree, Seam Girl._ Johanna's words flooded her memory. She gripped the tree trunk and began to shimmy her way up, ignoring the way her nightgown clung to her thighs and rode further up with each movement. When she judged to be at the necessary height, she walked across a sturdy branch toward the window.

It was open and the cool breeze blew the curtains in the room. Sitting on the edge of the branch, Katniss could see him laying in bed, looking the most peaceful she had ever seen him. She would have been content to just watch him and soak in his tranquility, but his face began to contort and his arms punched out. A thin sheen of sweat broke across his face and he began to cry out loudly.

She scrambled back closer to the tree trunk, sure that his assistant would come rushing in to his aid. Or maybe his father. But no one came. His cries were unbearable, and she felt her heart break a thousand times over. Sure that he was alone, and likely would be for the rest of the night, she crept back across the branch and slipped through the curtains into his room.

The carpet under her bare feet was soft and plush, muting her footsteps. The room itself was plainly decorated –nothing that set it apart from the many other rooms in the Mellark home that Katniss had seen –save for the sheer size and luxurious feel. It was the whimpering boy in the bed that held Katniss’ attention. She ghosted across the room and knelt by his side, pushing his damp curls off his forehead, just as she had done after his accident.

His nightmare stopped the moment she ran her fingers through his hair. His body calmed and his heart rate slowed. She smiled and continued her ministrations, whispering a song to him. “I am with you, I will carry you through it all. I won’t leave you, I will catch you when you feel like letting go. ‘Cause you’re not, you’re not alone.” She let her fingers brush over a small scar on his forehead that was hidden under his hair, over his eyelids, down his cheekbones, across his lips. “And I’ll be your hope when you feel like it’s over. And I will pick you up when your whole world shatters. And when you’re finally in my arms, look up and see love has a face.”

Blue eyes fluttered open and his hand came up to catch hers. Katniss’ breath caught in her throat and her stomach twisted. “It’s you,” he whispered.

Katniss nodded as his hand shifted up to cup her face. She tilted into his touch.

“Really you? Not just a dream?”

She shook her head, tears of joy prickling her eyes. “I’m real, Peeta.”

“I see you every night. Here, in my room, caring for me.” He brought his lips to meet hers, cementing her reality in his mind. She was inexperienced, having never kissed a non-family member before, but it did not seem to deter him. Katniss could feel the heat from his fever through his touch, wondering if it had as much to do with his supposed hallucinations as any head injury. He kissed her with such a frenzy, as if breaking contact would cause her to disappear from his room. When he pulled away, pupils dilated, face flushed, lips plumped, and breathing shallow, he furrowed his brow. “Why? How did you find me?”

“I...I came to...to help you. I needed to make sure because...because this is our fate. Our destiny.” She was still dizzy from his kisses and the butterflies that filled her stomach with the reality of finally being with him.

A smile crossed his face. “You’re too young to think that way.”

“I do not think. I know.” She took his hand in both of hers and moved it to her heart. “I am yours, wholly and forever. If you’ll have me. If you’ll let me look after you. If you’ll let me stay.”

Peeta’s eyes shifted back and forth from their conjoined hands to her eyes. The eyes that he dreamt about, that he feared he’d never see again, that he loved. “Stay? Always,” he answered, pulling her closer to him, kissing her again.

She smiled brightly at him and pulled his covers back to expose his leg. He tried to stop her but she shushed him. “I brought medicine. Natural herbs that are more effective than the medicines you’ve been given.” She took out a tub of one of the pastes she had created and gently rubbed it into the deep wound on his leg. He let out a short hiss followed by a sigh of relief. She ripped a strip of cloth from her nightgown and wrapped his thigh.

“You made this?”

“I’m not very good at healing people,” she confessed with a blush. “My mother was far better. At least, that’s what I was told.”

“You’re better than you think.” Peeta lifted the covers, offering her a place next to him in bed. She happily obliged and crawled into his waiting arms. Any time he could, he stole kisses against the corners of her lips, her cheeks, her temple, everywhere he could reach. “My mother won’t like this,” he warned.

Katniss bit her bottom lip. “I’ll need to be back in my room before morning chores anyway. I’ll be gone before anyone comes to check on you.” She rested her head on his chest and breathed in his scent deeply. His bare skin was still hot to touch, but the rhythmic beat of his heart lulled her into the first restful sleeps she’d had since coming to the Merchants Quarters.

And with his arms wrapped firmly around her, the feel of her body against his, the knowledge that she thought of him the way he had been thinking of her, Peeta too, slept peacefully throughout the night, without nightmares. When Katniss slipped from his hold in the morning, they both silently confirmed that she would return the next night, and the night after, and every night that she still lived and worked in the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Merry Christmas everyone. As always, thanks to my wonderful beta, Sunfish. Hope you enjoy :)


	7. Chapter 6

For nearly two weeks, Katniss would sneak out of her bedroom at night with her backpack full of salves, climb the tree, and find Peeta waiting for her. And every night, she would clean his wound and change his bandage with strips of linen she swiped from the clean laundry. Every night she’d ask how he was feeling. And every night he’d say, “Better. Now that you’re here,” and kiss her. She would always roll her eyes and curl up against his warm body and they would stay that way until the sun began to rise. Occasionally she’d feed him cool soups and broths that would help reduce his fever and ease his aches and pains. 

Nights when he awoke from nightmares or would show anxiety about forgetting some piece of his life, she would sing to him songs of the Seam, or tell him stories of the Victors, like she would if she were consoling a child. In return, he would recall the tales his nurse would tell him when he was young. And always he’d pepper her with soft kisses.

His progress was substantial. Remarkable. Inexplicable, according to his doctor. “If he keeps up at this pace, I’d say we could start him on a physical therapy regimen in a couple of weeks. Get him up and walking to build up some muscle,” the doctor told Peeta’s relieved parents.

“Why the sudden recovery?” Peeta’s father asked. “Is that normal?”

The doctor shook his head and shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Probably just his body finally reacting properly to the medication.” The doctor looked over to Peeta. “Maybe you’re more of a survivor than we initially thought.”

Peeta and his mother both scoffed at this prospect, though for entirely different reasons, Peeta presumed. He knew it had more to do with Katniss than anything this doctor came up with. Every morning he awoke to Katniss in his arms, he felt stronger and healthier than the day before. She was a far better nurse than she gave herself credit for, and if anyone knew of her miracle remedies, she’d never have to worry about money or food for her or her family ever again. Every Merchant family would call on her, and pay her handsomely for her cures. But if his mother knew Katniss had been sneaking into his bedroom every night, Peeta knew she’d throw the Seam girl out on the streets. And while a bad mark from the Mellark home didn’t automatically make a worker an outcast, the Mellark matriarch had a way of making sure certain employees never found work again. Peeta couldn’t allow that to happen to Katniss, so he kept his mouth shut and let everyone, believe whatever they wanted to. Suddenly, he longed for Katniss in a way he knew he shouldn’t and needed nightfall to come quickly.

“I can’t wait until my leg is fully healed so I can take you to all our parties and spin you around the dance floor,” Peeta announced as he held Katniss close that night.

Katniss laughed softly. “I’m afraid I would look out of place at your parties.”

“Do you not dance?”

She nodded. “We occasionally have festivals, thanking the Victors, that include dancing. But those usually involve fiddle and flute music; nothing fancy like you’re accustomed to.”

He kissed her forehead in the way that she had grown fond of. “Your dances sound far more enjoyable than ours; rehearsed waltzes, formal promenades, it’s all a bit of a snore.”

“I didn’t know you danced.”

“Didn’t know I danced?” He scoffed and stuck his nose high in the air, mimicking the way his mother spoke to the Seam. “I was trained by world renowned dancers for as long as I can remember. My parents afforded me the best of the best when it came to my education. Surely you wouldn’t think they’d scrimp on something like dancing, would you?” He smiled sincerely at her and rolled his eyes. “Because that’s what every six-year-old boy wants to be doing –learning how to stand straight and keep their feet at a perfect angle.”

“I don’t know much at all about your upbringing,” she admitted. “We aren’t taught anything about your kind until we’re nearly graduated.”

Peeta flushed. “I’m such an idiot sometimes. Here we are, you having brought me back from death’s door, and I don’t know anything about you. Nor you about me.”

“I know you can dance,” Katniss offered weakly.

“And you sing better than any bird in the sky,” he countered. “But surely there is more to you than that. And if we are destined to be together, it’s about time we learned those things.” He rolled to his side, propping himself up with his elbow. “We’ll start easy. What is your favorite color?”

“Green,” she answered quickly. “Like the forest back in the Seam. It was a second home to me and I remember watching the way the shades of the leaves and plants bounced off one another to form the most perfect green. It’s a color unlike any I’ve ever seen replicated. It’s peace and serenity and - Hey!” She smacked his arm when she noticed his eyes were closed.

His eyes snapped open and he rubbed his arm. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You asked me a question, then fell asleep on me,” she whispered in a harsh voice. “It’s rude.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he smiled. “I was trying to picture it.” Katniss narrowed her eyes at him, which only made him smile wider. “I was! I was imagining what that color would look like on a canvas.”

She shook her head. “Sure you were. What, did you have some famous artist teach you how to draw and paint as well? You don’t need to mock the poor, little Seam girl just because you know how to do things I was never afforded the opportunity to learn.”

Peeta opened and closed his mouth, turning his head to hide the rosiness that flooded his cheeks. “Forget it,” he mumbled, turning over so his back was facing her. “Let’s just sleep. I’m tired.”

Katniss was left with a strange, hollow feeling in her chest. She was angry with Peeta for being so snotty with her, but why was he upset? His breathing filled the room, which only frustrated her further. How could he sleep so easily after that, yet here she was, wide awake? It was highly unfair. Her eyes began to roam about the room, taking in the sparse decor. Everything was posh and easily worth more than any belongings in the Seam: from the deep mahogany armoire to the shelves and shelves of books, to the exquisite painting hanging on the wall.  

She had seen all of these things before, but never really looked at any of them very closely. She slipped out of bed and across the room, running her fingers over the delicate carvings along the wood of the armoire. Nothing in the Seam was so delicately designed; no one had the money or the time to spend carving designs into wood. Books were a rare commodity, as well. Stories were told orally by parents or siblings, or sometimes during ceremonies. Reading was taught in school, but unless you had one of the handful of jobs that required it, it was a skill forgotten by most. 

She moved over to the painting, once again feeling out of place. She couldn’t make out much of what was depicted in it, as there was so much grey and blue and brown mixed here and there. But there was one bit of relief in the harshness, a small sliver of gold emanating from one of the grey heaps near what she suspected to be the ground. She stepped closer, but between the darkness of the room and the style of painting, she couldn’t make out any additional details.

“It’s you.”

Katniss jumped, not expecting to hear Peeta’s voice. She turned to see him sitting up in bed, watching her. “Me?” She asked, turning back to examine the art.

“The first time we met, after the flood.”

“We were just kids.”

“My father took me into the Seam to deliver bread. It was so...horrific, so broken, I remember not understanding what had happened. He told me about the storm and all the death that occurred and that we were supposed to help those in need. I saw you before he did. Well, I heard you. Singing.”

“You gave me bread,” Katniss answered in a quiet voice. “I remember.”

“I couldn’t get that day out of my head. I should have asked my father if you could come home with us. He would have let you. You were all I talked about on the way home and I could tell...he didn’t want to leave you there either.” He sighed. “I could never get you out of my head. I saw you sitting in that rubble every day for years. I had to get it out.”

She hovered her fingers over the light on the painting. “You did this?”

He nodded. “When I was eight. I had to make it more symbolic or my mother would never have allowed it in the house. I told her it was for a project but I’m pretty sure my dad saw right through that lie. I just...I had to have a part of you here. It was the only thing that made this place bearable. Do you like it?” He tentatively asked.

“I hate it,” she admitted. “This was the worst day of my life; my entire family died and I was left alone. How could you make such a horrible moment...beautiful?”

“I have others. Not from that day,” he offered, leaning under his bed to retrieve a sketchbook. He tossed it onto her side of the bed.

She crossed back over and flipped through the book. Images of the Merchants Quarters, the wall, forest life, faces. Her face. Her braid. Her eyes. Her fingers. Page after page of her. “Why are some of these not colored?” She asked, indicating to certain details on the pages, most notably the forest in the background of the Merchants Quarters.

“I could never get the shading right. I was...waiting.”

Katniss smiled. “Waiting.” She set the drawing pad down and crawled next to him.

“For you.”

“You’ve been waiting for me. Just like I’ve been waiting for you.” Katniss leaned forward to kiss Peeta, and he responded quickly. She was slow and still slightly clumsy with her actions but he didn't complain. “I, uh,” she breathed, coming up for air. She smiled shyly. “Peeta, am I doing this...”

“Don't think so much,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing her again. She felt his tongue slip past his lips and she parted her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he began to roll her onto her back, never breaking their contact. He ran his hands down her side to her bare legs, hitching one of her knees around his waist.

They had kissed many times before, but never with the feeling of urgency like tonight. Before she had felt a flickering flame lapping inside her, but tonight it had grown into a full-forced fire that only Peeta could quell. He grazed her neck with his lips, kissing softly down then back up to her ear. She could feel him smile when she let out a soft gasp at the contact. His hand began to slide upward, lifting the hem of her nightdress until it barely covered her upper thigh, while his other slid down her other side, stopping right above her breasts.

She had never been touched by a man before, hadn't ever even touched herself in that regard, but the closer his hands got to her most sensitive areas, the hotter the fire blazed. “Please?” She whispered softly, as his thumb ran so painfully close.

“Katniss,” he breathed, moving his lips back to hers. “Is this...I need you to tell me to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't know that I can tell myself to. I've been waiting for you for so long, for this. And now that you're here with me...I just...I'll wait forever for you,” he answered against her skin.

“I don't want to wait.”

Both hands slipped down to the edge of her nightgown and he pulled it over her head, leaving her completely exposed, save for her simple panties. He drank in the sight of her; her olive skin shining in the soft glow of the moon, her petite frame made muscular from years of hunting. She was absolutely perfect in his eyes, even if she did try to hide her bare breasts from him. “You're beautiful.”

His hands roamed down her body, fingertips brushing lightly over as much skin as he could touch. His left hand massaged her inner thigh, his thumb inching closer and closer to the edge of her panties as they continued to kiss. Her breath hitched as he brushed her center through the fabric. He paused to let her catch her breath before continuing his ministrations. She gripped the sheets beneath her and her hips bucked against his hand.

“Peeta.” Her breath was shaky. She wanted more. She needed more. She was already burning for him; how much brighter could this flame become? When he moved his hand away, she could feel his desire for her through his silken pajama bottoms. Silk, another indicator of his standing, while she wore cotton. But in this bed, with his lips against hers and his hands praising her body, they were equals. She even dared to believe that he worshiped her, put her above him, needed her as much as she needed him.

“What is you want, my Katniss?”

“I want you, Peeta. Completely.”

He stared into her grey eyes, searching for any hint of wavering. “I've...I've never...”

“Me, neither.”

Peeta smiled at her, his boyish charm shining through. “Together?”

She nodded. “Together.”

He slid away from her for a moment, pulling his bottoms off, before hooking his fingers through her panties and slowly dragging them down her legs. “It may hurt,” he warned her.

She reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “I trust you.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, muffling the pained groan she elicited when he pushed into her. She was burning out of control, flames licked her entire body, inside and out. They flooded her being, filling her with an inferno that could not be contained. The stars filled the room as their bodies connected. Any pain she may have felt was long forgotten as their hands clutched together. Higher and higher they climbed, novices learning their bodies together, closer to the edge, ready to fall over.

She is engulfed in flames. She is burning. She is a girl on fire. They burn together. And after, when the fire has been extinguished, the stars continued to dance across the room and celebrate the young lovers who slept soundly against one another, hands locked.

Far above them, one Victor smiled while another grimaced.

“Must you go?” Peeta asked, snuggling his face into Katniss’ neck the morning after.

She felt her naked skin break out in goosebumps from his breath. “You know I have to. What if your mother found us? Or someone discovered I was not in my room?”

“But you’ll come back? Tonight?”

Katniss smiled and kissed Peeta. “I will come back every night. As long as you’ll have me.”

“Then you will stay with me forever,” he joked, rolling her onto her back and hovering above her. “I’ll never let you out of this bed ever again.” He began to plant soft kisses down her jawline to her neck.

“Peeta,” she moaned. “I can’t be late.”

He groaned and laid his head against her bare chest. “I get so bored without you.”

“I’ll be back,” she laughed, running her fingers through his curls. “I’ll always come back.” And she knew, in that exact moment, that there would never again be doubt about her future. Because he was laying with her: he had claimed her last night and she had claimed him. They may be young but not too young to be sure. Love like theirs was unwavering and nothing could ever keep them from each other. They were connected. They were one. 

She couldn’t ignore the ache that overtook her body when she went about her duties for the day. Physically, she moved slower, but emotionally she felt like a part of her had been ripped away the moment she left Peeta’s bed. She tried to keep it all to herself, but with the glances Rue threw her way, Katniss knew she was doing a lousy job of it. She had felt so complete and full last night with Peeta, and now felt incredibly alone and empty in a way she hadn’t experienced since her family died.

The day passed too slowly and too quickly at the same time. All Katniss could think about was getting back into Peeta’s arms and being with him again. As soon as the sun set, Katniss grabbed her bag and opened the window to her room, only to be stopped by the wide brown eyes that stared at her in the darkness.

“Katniss!” Rue hissed.

Katniss turned in shock. “Rue. I thought you were sleeping.”

“I haven’t been sleeping for the past few nights when you’ve snuck out. Thresh has seen you, you know; climbing that tree, sneaking into the youngest Mellark’s room. I’ve begged Thresh not to tell but he won’t risk his own job to protect you if Mrs. Mellark finds out he knows.” Rue stared down at her hands. “None of us can afford to protect you if she finds out.”

“Don’t you worry, Rue,” Katniss reassured her, slipping out of the window. “I’ll make sure no one else ever knows I’m there.”

“You’d better,” Rue whispered after her bunkmate’s retreating figure. “You’d better.”

Peeta was waiting for Katniss when she climbed into his room. “You’re late.”

“Sorry. Something came up,” she apologized with a kiss. “But I’m here now.”

He grinned and pulled her on top of him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Now that I’m with you,” she answered in a low voice in his ear. He growled and flipped her onto her back and began planting kisses down her body. She felt complete again, being with Peeta once more. Nothing could take away the peace and love she felt at this exact moment. Any aches and pains either may have felt during the day were long forgotten as they moved together. The moon shone brightly through the window, highlighting the young lovers, the twinkling stars filling the room yet again. A song, one only the two of them could hear, filled their minds and their bodies, a song of love that played throughout the night and well into the morning.

It was different, that morning, when Katniss awoke. The first thing she noticed was the sun, rather than the moon, pouring through the window and filling the room. Then the birds that chirped loudly and gayly in the tree outside. Katniss’ foggy brain took half a second too long to focus on her surroundings.

Sunlight. Birds. “Oh!” She gasped, opening her eyes wide. She overslept. They both did. It was almost time for daily duties to begin. Which could only mean – _click_. She couldn’t move fast enough, or at all, to prevent Peeta’s bedroom door from opening before she could leave.

“Master Peeta, I’ve come with your-” Thresh’s deep voice filled the room and caught when he saw Katniss, clutching the sheet to her naked chest, frantically staring at him. Thresh’s face softened for a second and Katniss saw the debate play across his face. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice, backing out of the room.

The few seconds Thresh was gone felt like a lifetime to Katniss as she tried to wake the sleeping Peeta. “Peeta!” She hissed, violently shaking him. “Wake up!”

"Wha-what's wrong, Katniss?" Peeta asked, rubbing his eyes. "Ugh, why is it so bright?"

"Because it's daytime! Peeta! We overslept! Thresh...Thresh he saw us. He was just in here and then he left! Peeta!"

"Shh," he shushed her, holding her shaking body next to his. "Shh, my Katniss. We'll be okay. We'll just get you dressed and out of here before anyone else-"

"Peeta Mellark!" His mother ripped his bedroom door off it's hinges and stormed into the room, eyes blazing.

Instinctively, Katniss, pulled the blankets from Peeta's bed more tightly around her. Peeta stretched his arm across her, shielding her from his mother's wrath. "Mother, please, let me explain-"

"Explain what?" His mother screamed. "Explain what this Seam whore is doing? I have eyes, you wretched thing, I'm not an idiot. Unlike some members of this family." She barreled across the room and grabbed Katniss' bicep, yanking her out of Peeta's grasp and onto the floor.

Katniss had just enough foresight to tighten her grip on the sheet so she wasn't completely naked in front of Mrs. Mellark. She landed on the floor in a thud and scrambled to her feet, reaching in vain for her nightgown.

"You ungrateful little whore!" Peeta's mother continued to scream. "How dare you take advantage of my hospitality? What did you think would happen?" Katniss turned her head away, but could feel the hatred spouting from the matriarch's mouth. "Consider yourself fired from this household. And any other, once it's clear how you manipulated an invalid for your own selfish desires!"

"Mother!"

"I haven't started with you yet, you worthless boy!" She spat at her son. "If you think this...this...this tramp will-"

"That's enough!" A deep voice, Peeta's father, rumbled through the room, cutting off his mother. "That. Is. Enough."

"Do you understand what is happening here?" Peeta's mother cried, gesturing between the still very naked Katniss and Peeta. "Did you know this was happening?"

"Of course I didn't know. But that does not give you the right to speak to your son in that manner." He closed the door behind him and strolled over to shut Peeta's window. "Especially when you're shouting loud enough for everyone in the Quarters to hear. Now, let's talk about this calmly, shall we?"

Peeta's mother turned and stuck her finger in her husband's face. "You. You knew about this, didn't you? You knew about his little slut?!"

Peeta's father sighed. "Did I not just say I was unaware of this...situation?”

"Sure. He is your son, isn't he?" She spat before turning back to where Katniss had slipped her nightgown back on. "You! You are fired. Immediately. Get out of my house and do not ever show your face here again!"

"You can't do that!" Peeta cried out. 

Mrs. Mellark looked at her son as if she were intent on setting him ablaze. "And why can't I throw this piece of trash out like she deserves?"

Katniss looked over at Peeta with wide, pleading eyes. Just beyond him, she saw a wisp of smoke crawl in through the window, a sure sign from the Victor she feared. _No_ , she thought. _No he will stand up for me._

"Because," Peeta slid out of bed, grateful he had swiped a pair of sleeping shorts off the floor beforehand, and retrieved Katniss' backpack. With only a slight limp and a few visible bruises, he dumped the contents out on his bed. "Because she's the one who's been taking care of me."

"What?" Mr. Mellark asked, his eyes scanning the products sprawled out. "But the doctor said-"

"That he couldn't explain it," Peeta finished. "But I can. It was Katniss, she fixed me. Without her remedies I could very well revert back. You won't throw out the woman who healed me unless you're prepared to throw me out as well."

Mrs. Mellark sucked in her cheeks and narrowed her eyes at her son. A sneer crossed her face. Before she could hurl whatever insult was rattling around her brain, Mr. Mellark stepped forward. "She will stay on. As your caretaker."

Peeta nodded, holding in the smile that was threatening to split his face in half. He glanced over at Katniss who was still crouched on the ground, nervously watching the ordeal play out. She glanced toward the window and was relieved to see the smoke had completely dispersed and was replaced by tiny flower petals floating outside. Peeta's father directed his wife out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. As soon as the door latched, Katniss scampered across the bed into Peeta's arms, knocking him to the floor in the process.

"You saved my life."

"That's what we do," he answered, cupping her face and kissing her soundly. "And now you can stay here."

* * *

It didn't take long before Peeta's leg had gained enough strength for him to begin his physical therapy. Katniss sat in on his doctor visits so she could be kept abreast of his progress and schedule. Rain delayed their first trips into town, so on the first sunny day, Peeta nearly dragged Katniss out into the square. He was slow and somewhat clumsy with his slightly atrophied leg, and had to hold tightly onto Katniss' arm to keep moving, but she didn't mind. It kept them closer together and allowed them to talk to one another without fear of being overheard or interrupted, which was a benefit when Peeta would whisper scandalous things in her ear about the families they passed or his plans for her that night. Despite her darker complexion, she was certain everyone could see the rosy hue that overtook her cheeks.

Katniss preferred it when they talked, even if it was about nothing, because it was easier to block out the salacious words of the other Merchants. No matter how many times Peeta told her to just ignore them, late at night, their words seemed to flood Katniss' brain.

_"What do you think he sees in a girl like that?"_

_"The most eligible bachelor his age and he's gallivanting around with a Seam girl. How pathetic."_

_"It must be a side effect of his injury. Maybe he hit his head and totally forgot who he was."_

_"She's not horrid looking, for a Seam girl."_

_"What do you mean by that?"_

_"Perhaps he keeps her around for...practice."_

_"Well he certainly isn't keeping her for marriage.”_

Those comments were the hardest on Katniss. She wondered how much truth there was behind the rumors, but Peeta was always there with steady touches and gentle words to calm her insecurities.

"They always talk about things they don't understand, Katniss," Peeta reassured her as they sat together on the grounds of the Mellark mansion. "I'm not like them, you know."

"How so?"

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I'm not just a pawn in this game. I'm me. And you're you. And me wants you." He kissed her nose as she giggled. 

"Some education you received."

"Will you sing to me? You know how much I love your voice."

She laid her head in his lap and as he ran his fingers through her hair, she sang a song the Seam people often sang after great storms.

"The water is wide, I cannot cross o'er. And neither have I wings to fly. Give me a boat that can carry two, and both shall row, my love and I. A ship there is and she sails the seas. She's loaded deep, as deep can be; but not as deep as the love I'm in and I know not if I sink or swim."

"That's a beautiful song," he commented, braiding and unbraiding strands of her hair.

"No," she corrected him. "The second part is quite sad. It's about how love grows cold over time."

He leaned down and kissed her. "I like it best without that line. I like to believe that love is capable of staying strong."

"My parents were in love until the end."

"I wish my parents loved one another," Peeta sighed. "I can't imagine living with someone forever without feeling that for them every day."

"Is that common?"

"Here it is," he answered. "Most marriages are arranged due to social standing and what benefits the families the most. Rarely do a husband and wife love each other till the end. Most don't ever really love their spouse. They like them enough, but there's always a feeling of a business arrangement. Yet they continue to pair their children up and continue the cycle, to better their family name."

"And their genetic line," Katniss mumbled under her breath. For a moment, she did not envy Peeta or the other Merchants. In the Seam, pairing up mates was not unheard of, but if either member objected or preferred another, they were not forced to marry. Finding love between two people was the job of Annie, not of the Seam residents themselves. When a woman became of age, she would keep chimes next to her window, or a flower in her sill, and when the chimes blew or petals floated into her room, Annie had selected her mate. It was never a total surprise; Annie was said to listen closely to the hearts and true desires of those who prayed to her. 

In Katniss’ mind, concepts of love and marriage were just another example of the stark differences between life in the Seam and in the Merchants Quarters. Everything seemed more shallow and disposable here. How often had she cleaned away half-eaten plates of food from the bakery because customers always knew where their next meal was coming from? The Mellarks themselves were the epitome of waste; Katniss could never understand what a five person family needed with a three-floor mansion with more bathrooms than in her entire neighborhood in the Seam, and two separate formal dining rooms. 

She played with the hem of her skirt, so simple compared to the extravagant clothing the Merchant girls wore to highlight their womanly curves. Their blonde hair was always perfectly coiffed, makeup so perfect on their near-ivory faces. They smiled so sweetly at Peeta when he and Katniss would walk by, and would call out their greetings and fond wishes in voices perfectly sweet and polished from years of etiquette classes. They were so unlike Katniss in so many ways that even now, with her head comfortably in Peeta’s lap, with his fingers running through her dark locks, she wondered what it was about her that he saw.

“You’re quiet,” he mused.

“I’m thinking,” she admitted.

“What about?”

She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on his thigh. “All those girls we pass on our walks. They’re all so beautiful and they’re very interested in you.”

“Okay,” Peeta drew out, not sure where this conversation was headed.

“Sometimes I just don’t understand...”

Peeta leaned back on his elbows. “I grew up with those girls. And many other girls just like them. I’ve been surrounded by them all my life. Honestly, they are very beautiful. And polished and clever and cultured.”

“You’re not helping me,” Katniss joked, though the pain shone through her eyes. She could tell all those things already. Those girls were like Peeta in so many ways, they seemed like such better fits in his life. “I’m nothing particularly pretty. I don’t fit in here, in this world.”

“Exactly. Those girls are this world. They strive for perfection and have nothing else to live for. But you, you’re wild and deep and you view everything with youthfulness and you don’t demand anything other than love.” He motioned for her to come lay next to him. “Those girls are having stiff conversations and boring, unfulfilled lives. But you don’t care about those things. You’re lying here with me in the grass, enjoying the sun, just...being. They would never do things like this.”

“You make me sound so simple.”

He snuggled her closer to his body. “Not simple. Authentic. Completely and utterly yourself. I’ll never leave you.”

They laid together in the grass until the sun began to set, Katniss napping soundly against him, visions of their future dancing out in her dreams. Peeta kept his eyes trained on her, memorizing every detail about her to draw later. Regardless of what she thought about Merchant girls, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He meant every word he said to her; it was her contradiction to the other girls that made him desire her. She cared deeply and loved fiercely and fought for what she wanted. He wanted so much to be able to capture her essence on paper, but there was something about her that was completely out of reach, even for him.

He tried to focus on the soft breaths Katniss let out as she slept. Or the soft breeze that blew around them. Anything to push out his mother’s condescending conversation with him that replayed over and over when he wasn’t careful.

“ _As soon as you’re healed, that girl will be sent off, Peeta Mellark,” his mother calmly informed him, taking a sip of her morning tea one Sunday. Katniss had gone off with the other Seam workers for prayers and Mrs. Mellark took advantage of her absence to speak with her son. “I can keep the rumors at bay as long as you have that limp. But I won’t allow it afterward, am I clear?”_

“ _You can’t keep her away, Mother,” he protested._

_Mrs. Mellark raised an eyebrow at him. “Mr. Undersee’s daughter is returning soon. You remember Madge, don’t you?”_

“ _What about her?” Peeta asked, clearly annoyed at her change of subject. He did remember Madge Undersee from school, and couldn’t care less that the spoiled girl was coming home from her vacation._

“ _Mrs. Undersee and I have been talking. Thankfully, she’s above listening to idle gossip about such lewd revelations. And Madge is a fine young woman of good standing, well trained and refined.” She took another sip of her tea. “Perhaps it would be beneficial if you two spent time with one another when she arrived.”_

“ _No, Mother, I don’t think that would serve any purpose beyond your own. I’m perfectly happy with Katniss.”_

_Mrs. Mellark set her tea down and waved her hand, dismissively. “How long do you expect this little game with her to continue? Your father has babied you long enough, but at some point you need to come to your senses and find a suitable girl to marry.”_

“ _It’s not a game, Mother. What Katniss and I have is real. I love her and she loves me. I will not be like you two, stuck forever in a loveless, unhappy marriage. I’m not my father.”_

“ _Oh, Peeta,” his mother spat. “You are more like your father than you know. All you Mellark men are the same.” She smiled as the confusion swept over Peeta’s face. “It’s an unsavory … tradition … of sorts. Not exactly something we enjoy speaking of. It started with your great-great-great grandfather fathering a bastard child with one of their kind and has continued ever since. Even your father harbored an unrequited love for a Seam woman until she died. But he, like all the others, understood that games are for children.”_

“ _What are you saying?”_

_She placed her cold, thin hand over Peeta’s and smiled with her snake lips. “I’m saying that you are my son. You’ll make the right choice, no matter how you may feel about that...girl.” A painful squeeze made her point clear. “That’s all.”_

Peeta shook his head violently and slid down so his lips were pressed against Katniss’ temple. “You are the river, the moon, the stars. I love you, Katniss,” he whispered. “Know that I will always love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in updating, but with the holidays and then the very sudden loss in my family, I just kind of zoned out for a while. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks always goes out to Sunfish for her beta skills. Come find me on tumblr if you'd like to chat: mitchesbcray


	8. Chapter 7

“Peeta?” Katniss asked after they finished their last physical therapy session. “What exactly do you...wear to parties like this?”

Mrs. Mellark called the staff of the household together early that morning to announce that they would be hosting a party to celebrate Peeta’s recovery. They all would be pulled off their normal duties in order to prepare the mansion for it. “It will be the grandest of all parties this year,” she instructed. “And I won’t settle for anything less.” Katniss was not excluded from these tasks, even if she was invited to to the party as well.

“Wear? Um, well,” Peeta rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess you wear a nice dress. Your nicest.”

Katniss looked down at her current attire –a pair of Gale’s old pants that stopped fitting him years ago and a loose shirt. She dressed now like she did back home, in comfortable clothes. Peeta never complained, he even told her that he loved how little she cared about fitting in with other Merchants. “I don’t think even my nicest dress will be enough,” she admitted. “I don’t have anything too fancy.”

“You could show up dressed just as you are now and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the room,” he answered, lifting her chin to kiss her. “But if you’d like, I can ask Delly who she’s getting her dress from. Maybe that shop will have something."

Katniss nodded, but wasn’t completely convinced. She wasn’t sure she’d be allowed in any Merchant store, and even if she was, she’d never be able to afford a dress from one. Her thoughts ran back to Hazelle, who wanted so badly to teach her a profitable skill like sewing. How handy that would be now.

“Don’t worry, Katniss,” he reassured her, reading the trepidation on her face. “Delly is my closest friend. She’ll take care of you.”

The store Delly recommended was owned by the brother of Peeta’s former childhood caretaker. Cinna and Portia had been employed and utilized by the Mellark family since they arrived to the Merchants Quarters over twenty years ago. Portia was immediately hired on as a caretaker for the Mellark boys and Cinna thrived as a dress designer, despite looking more Seam than Merchant. But they came straight from the Capitol, so it was the elephant in the room that was never talked about and even outright ignored at times. 

Katniss had to wait until the next Sunday to go, when she was allowed to leave the grounds. It was the only day when Seam workers were visible on the streets, but Katniss still crept as sneakily as she could through town to Cinna’s simple dress shop. The bell rang as she opened the door.

“Hello?” she called into the empty store.

“Be with you in just a minute,” a male voice called back. “Feel free to look around for something you like.”

Katniss wandered through the racks of dresses, separated by color and each completely unique in some way. She let her fingers run across the differing, luxurious fabrics of the gowns. She was drawn to a deep emerald dress with a low back and silver jewels along the bodice. 

“That color would compliment your skin tone beautifully. Unfortunately, I’ve just sold an emerald dress for the Mellark party.”

Katniss jumped and quickly hung the dress back up on the rack. “Oh, I’m...I’m sorry. I was just looking...uh...I’m sorry. I’m Kat-”

“Katniss, yes I know,” Cinna smiled and began to walk toward her. He was simply dressed, nothing like the gowns she had just been looking through. “Mr. Mellark informed Portia that you’d be in sometime soon. I’m Cinna.”

“Thank you...for seeing me.” She played with her braid and chewed nervously on her bottom lip. “Mr. Mellark...Peeta gave me his card so I can pay for whatever it is you-”

Once again, Cinna interrupted her anxious train of thought. He held his hand up and shook his head. “Don’t worry about payment yet. For now, I just want to get to know you. Come with me to the back.” Katniss followed Cinna into the back room where he offered her a cup of coffee and a seat in a plush chair. “Have a seat, Katniss. Relax, I won’t bite.” He smiled again, a smile that put her at ease, like a friend. He cocked his head to the side and studied the Seam girl. “You’re not like most of the girls who come in here.”

Katniss nodded. “I’m surprised you agreed to see me,” she admitted honestly. 

“When Portia brought it up to me I didn’t even hesitate to agree. I’ve heard a lot about you and I had to meet you for myself.” When Katniss flushed, he placed a hand over hers. “Don’t worry, I don’t listen to the petty gossipers for what they say, only for why. And it’s clear to me that so many of these women are jealous that you’ve hooked the hottest commodity.” He winked at her and sat back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself, Katniss.”

Feeling comfortable and at ease in Cinna’s presence, Katniss took a deep breath proceeded to tell him her story, about her real family, her adopted family, the Victors...everything came spilling out of her. Cinna stopped her only a few times to ask clarifying questions, but let her talk for almost an hour.

“Your eyes light up when you talk about Mr. Mellark,” Cinna noted, setting his empty coffee cup down. “I think I have the perfect dress for you.” They walked back out to the shop and Cinna immediately headed toward a specific rack. He flipped through a few dresses until he pulled the right one. It was a simple red gown, interlayered with jewels at the bottom that caught the light and shone brightly.

“Oh, Cinna,” she gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’ll look better on you.” He handed her the dress and walked her toward the dressing area. She quickly changed out of her own clothes and allowed Cinna to slip the gown over her head with the one instruction of “close your eyes.” The silk material felt weightless on her body and she knew she was smiling when she felt him tie the back up tightly. His hands were in her hair, pulling out her typical braid and sweeping it up off her neck. “Well, it’s not a complete look, but what do you think?”

She opened her eyes and felt tears spring into them. This woman in the mirror was not her, it couldn’t be. The dress hung on her perfectly, as if it were tailored specifically for her body. The top was cut low enough to give her cleavage without making it look like she was trying too hard. “Cinna,” she breathed.

“Spin around and watch yourself,” he instructed. 

She kept her eyes locked on her reflection as she spun and saw the orange underside of the fabric spring to life and interact with the shining crystals.

“It won’t even need much work,” Cinna mused, pulling the straps a little tighter on her shoulders. “That’s a sign, you know.”

“A sign?”

“That this was meant to be your dress. I knew it, too. I had another girl in here not too long ago looking at this one but I knew it wouldn’t be for her. She didn’t have the right attitude for it. So you’ll have at least one enemy at this party,” he winked, untying her from the garment.

“I think I’ll have many enemies,” Katniss mumbled.

Cinna hushed her. “You remember what’s important, Katniss. You’re a fighter. Don’t let their jealousy get the better of you.” As she changed back into her own clothes, Cinna went to bag up the dress for alterations. She wandered out to the front register and handed him the card Peeta gave her. “What’s that for?” He asked, staring at the card.

“F-for paying you. For the dress.”

Cinna waved his hand. “Please. It’s been an honor to get to know you, Katniss. I’ll bring the dress by the day of the party. I can’t wait to see it fit properly on you.”

* * *

Peeta didn’t like that Katniss wouldn’t be arriving at the party with him, but one look from Cinna told him it would be worth it. He sipped a glass of champagne and glanced around the transformed ballroom. Just like his mother instructed, everything was perfect and shining and it made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

An unfamiliar hand on his shoulder sent shivers down his back. He swallowed hard, glancing at the newly manicured, soft pink nails against the pale white fingers. Plastering on a smile, he turned. “Madge. It’s good to see you again.”

“Oh, Peeta, you don’t have to be so formal with me. It’s been months and I don’t even get a hug?” She challenged him.

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, the smell of her perfume filling his senses and making him gag. “How have you been?”

Slowly releasing him, she smiled brightly. “I’ve been well. I’ve just returned home from a lovely vacation and I cannot waitto get settled in back here.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and swiped a glass of champagne off the tray from a nearby waiter. “What about you? I heard you were in a horrible accident. I’m so glad you’re feeling better, darling.”

Peeta nodded. Of course he was in an accident, wasn’t the entire point of this party to celebrate his recovery? “I am feeling better. I’ve had an amazing caretaker.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about your...caretaker. What’s her name again? Catnip?”

“Katniss,” he corrected her, taking a sip of his drink.

“Right. Katniss, the Seam girl. The others have been telling me all about her, about how she wears boy’s pants out in public like a child.” Madge giggled. “And she is unrefined and native, even.”

“Please, Madge. You’re smarter than this. Why don’t you just ask what you’re really wondering?”

Madge raised an eyebrow. “Is she pretty, Peeta?”

Peeta nodded, a smile crossing his face at the thought of Katniss’ beauty. 

“She must be,” Madge concurred. “You were so shy about doing anything with me when we were in school, yet I hear she spends every night in your bed. Your own pretty...” she sighed, “what do you call her?”

“Katniss,” he breathed.

“Yes, I’m aware of her name. I mean....” Madge dropped her sentence when she followed Peeta’s –and everyone else in the room’s –eyes toward the door. “So that’s her, then?”

Peeta didn’t answer but instead floated across the room to her. “Katniss.” He smiled against her as he took her in her arms and spun her around. He kissed her, glad she hadn’t worn any of the thick lipstick that the other girls were prone to wear. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” she answered quietly. “I feel so conspicuous here. Everyone is staring.”

“Focus only on me,” he suggested, kissing her temple. “Let’s get you a glass of champagne.” They walked back over to where Peeta left his glass and handed it to her. “I’ll be right back.”

Katniss nodded and took a sip of the bubbly liquid. She looked up and right into the cornflower blue eyes of a woman she had never seen before.

“So you’re the infamous Katniss. We’ve all just been dying to meet you,” the woman said in a saccharine sweet voice. “I’m Madge Undersee. I went to school with Peeta.” The two women stood in an uncomfortable silence, Katniss unsure what to talk to the refined Madge Undersee about.

Katniss was thankful when Peeta returned, his hand resting at the small of her back. “Katniss, have you met Madge Undersee yet?”

“We just did,” Madge answered. “I was telling her what a pleasure it is to finally get to know her. I know she’s such an important part of your life, Peeta, and I wanted to make sure she felt welcomed.”

“Thank you,” Katniss answered in a small voice, not trusting the smile on Madge’s face. 

“Katniss is responsible for my quick recovery,” Peeta said, pulling her closer to him. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her amazing caretaking skills.”

Madge raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? Katniss is a healer. And I hear you sing exceptionally well?”

Katniss swallowed and gave a short nod.

With a smirk, Madge clinked her glass to catch the attention of the party goers. “Ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of everyone in attendance, I would like to say thank you to the Mellark family for hosting this fabulous party.” Everyone in the room murmured their agreement. “And of course, to say congratulations to Peeta Mellark for his full health. I’ve been informed that his caretaker, Miss Katniss, is quite the singer. What do you say, maybe we could hear the talent that helped cure the man of the hour?”

The room erupted in applause and Madge turned back to the stunned Katniss. “I-I-I can’t sing in front of everyone.”

Madge pouted. “Oh, dear, but I’ve just said you would. You can’t turn down the invitation and break all of our hearts, can you?”

Katniss looked to Peeta, who tightened his fingers around the fabric of her dress. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t be afraid, Katniss. Sing like you always have, just for me. Keep your eyes on me.” He kissed her again and watched her nervously make her way to where the small band was playing. 

She cleared her throat and found Peeta in the crowd, a beacon of light in the sea of unfamiliar and judgmental faces. She took a breath and as she began to sing, the crowd disappeared one by one until all that remained was Peeta.

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow 

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow 

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes 

And when again they open, the sun will rise. 

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away 

A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray 

Forget your woes and let your troubles lay 

And when again it's morning, they'll wash away. 

Here it's safe, here it's warm 

Here the daisies guard you from every harm 

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true 

Here is the place where I love you. 

Here is the place where I love you.”

His blue eyes shimmered and his smile threatened to pull his face apart as she finished. It wasn’t until the audience themselves began to clap and cheer that she realized they weren’t alone. She felt her face turn warm and quickly jumped off the stage, running straight to Peeta’s arms. He wrapped her up and spun her around until she couldn’t breathe. As her feet touched the ground again, she felt his lips against hers and welcomed the very public display of his affection. She hooked her hands around his neck and brought him impossibly closer, her fingers knotted through his curls. “I could stay like this forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“Hopefully not in a room full of people,” he joked, causing her to laugh loudly. He loved making her laugh, the sound making the entire room shine. "Just with me."

"Only you," she confirmed, kissing him again. She sighed happily, knowing she would get to kiss him every day. Whenever she wanted. 

"Ahem." Katniss and Peeta both turned to where Madge was waiting, her face in a tight smile, as if it were taking every bit of her to be polite. "Peeta, darling, you undersold this girl's talent. The other girls want to congratulate her after that performance. Katniss, dear, would you mind terribly if I stole you away from this handsome devil for a few moments?"

"Um, well, I'd really rather-" Katniss began to protest, locking eyes with Peeta. 

"Oh come now, we don't bite." Madge urged, grabbing Katniss' arm and digging her perfectly filed nails into the Seam girl's skin. She all but dragged Katniss to where a group of towhead Merchants were giggling in a group. "Ladies, here she is. Our own little mockingbird. Katniss, these are the girls. Girls, this is...Peeta's Katniss."

"Hello," Katniss greeted them, recognizing most from her and Peeta's treks into town. It must not have been the proper thing to say because they all started giggling again.

"You do have a lovely...voice," one finally spit out.

"And that dress," cooed another, "wherever did you get it?"

"Cinna's shop," Katniss answered. Speaking his name reminded Katniss of his advice. _You remember what’s important, Katniss. You’re a fighter. Don’t let their jealousy get the better of you_. She stood straighter and pushed her shoulders back slightly.

"Madge, dear, isn't that the dress you looked at but the owner wouldn't sell to you?"

Madge set her jaw. "I suppose it was. But thankfully he showed me a much finer gown," she answered, holding out her aqua blue dress, which accented her curves far better than the dress Katniss wore, and looked to be far more expensive with all of its hand-stitched details. "But...yours looks nice on you," she added, looking to Katniss.

"It certainly shows off your petite frame," a new girl piped up.

"Well it's no surprise why Peeta kept you around at all now," Madge said.

Katniss felt her face muscles twitch and she wondered if she could get her fingers through enough of Madge's fancy up-do to do some damage. "Peeta and I have something together."

"Yes," Madge agreed. "You two have quite the physical connection, if your little display is any indication."

"It's not just physical," Katniss shot back. "Peeta and I are destined for one another. Forever."

"Is that so?" Madge asked with a sly smile amidst the giggles of the other girls in the group. "Is that what he promised you? A life together, forever?"

Katniss could hear the blood rushing through her ears. "Yes."

"My dear, sweet child. You are so naive, aren't you?" Madge caught sight of Peeta making his way over. She turned her head and saw Mrs. Mellark watching them. As soon as Peeta was at Katniss' side, Madge raised her voice. "Katniss, my dear, you sing so very well. I hope you will do me the honor of singing when Peeta and I are wed."

Katniss' stomach dropped as the room filled with thunderous applause. Her vision tunneled and she thought she might pass out. "What? Peeta?"

"That's enough, Madge," Peeta hissed, moving his body so it blocked the now gloating Merchant girl from Katniss' eye sight. "Katniss, please..."

"Is it true, Peeta?"

He sighed. "My mother arranged it. I didn't-"

"Your mother?"

"It's how things are done here, Katniss, remember? No one marries for love. Madge's family is connected and my family would benefit from the arrangement, but-"

Katniss put her hands up. "No, I don't need to hear anymore."

"I promised you forever, didn't I? I meant it," he pleaded, holding her hands and drawing her close. "Believe me." 

He leaned in to kiss her when she caught of glimpse of his mother talking to another woman who looked remarkably like Madge, with an accomplished look on both of their faces. _The mothers. They must already be planning the wedding._ Katniss turned her head. "I believe you, Peeta. But our forevers are obviously different." She fled from the room, unable to ignore the whispered accusations and smug looks from the others. She ran out onto the grounds, as fast as her legs could carry her, until she gave out and collapsed in a heap on the cool grass. Only then, with her face buried in the expensive silk dress, did she let her heart shatter and began to weep.

She cried so hard, she didn't notice the wisps of smoke surround her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all my thanks go out to Sunfish for being my beta, sounding board, and drill sergeant. Find me on tumblr if you'd like to chat: mitchesbcray and be sure to let me know what you think! :)


	9. Chapter 8

"Oh, you poor little Seam girl. Outside in the garden while the Merchants carry on without her."

Katniss snapped her head up and stared straight into the soulless eyes of Haymitch. Smoke billowed from him, pouring from his lips and masking most of his body. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

He clicked his tongue and pulled her chin up from her dress. "Come now, little one. You know why I’m here. You made me a promise, remember? A soul for a soul?" He smiled. "I've come to collect."

"You can't!" She protested, twisting her head from his touch. "You said-"

"I am well aware of what I said," he chided, retrieving a flask and taking a long drink from it. "What I don't think you’re aware of is what you promised. Must I replay it for you? 'I volunteer!'" he mocked her. "'Take my soul for his!'"

Katniss' eyes widened. She did make that deal and Haymitch accepted it on the grounds that... "No one ever doubts our love," she finished aloud. 

Haymitch smirked. "Ahh, there it is. Realization finally hitting you, is it? You gave him love, you gave him life and this is what you get in return. He knew all along that he was to marry that other girl, didn’t he? You must have known, deep in your heart, that you didn't belong in this world."

Katniss thought back to all the times she saw small finger-like tendrils of smoke, beckoning her to follow them. She was always able to shake them away with the touch or thought of Peeta. She closed her eyes tight, knowing that once again, Peeta could save her. Rather than the images of them together, wrapped in each others' arms, bodies intertwined as lovers, Katniss only saw Madge. With a gold band on her left hand, in a white gown, plump with child, making a family. Her family. The family Katniss always imagined herself having. Instead of love, she felt only rage. And hatred. And utter destruction. 

"You know the deal," Haymitch cackled, producing a blade from his jacket. "You, of all people, doubt your love. You must now pay the price." He began to lower his arm quickly, one foot caught on the fabric of her dress so she couldn't escape. As his arm grew closer to her neck, prepared to slit her throat quickly and easily, Katniss saw that his eyes were now filled with smoke, and realized that was the last thing she would ever see if she didn't act quickly.

"Please, no!" She cried, throwing her arms over her face. 

A pause. A minute. Enough for Katniss to shift her arms and peek through to where Haymitch still stood with his blade poised, ready to finally take the soul he was robbed of that dark and stormy night. He pursed his lips, as if listening to some unheard conversation. He looked down at her. "One more trade."

"What?"

"I'm not completely ruthless. You're young, you're bright enough, you could make something of yourself. I'm offering you one last trade."

"What...what trade would that be?" She asked, her eyes trained on the steel dagger that was still in his clutches. She didn't trust the conniving Victor. It was always said that Death was the most traitorous of all, since he often slipped in and out of their world unnoticed, leaving nothing but pain and heartbreak behind. When Haymitch set his cunning mind to a goal, he always achieved it.

"Trade your life...for his." He pulled his blade up from her and stepped away. She sat up and watched him walk circles around her, leaving a smoke trail so thick it acted as a curtain, keeping their conversation private from the world.

"Why would I do that?" Katniss asked.

Haymitch shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. You did love him, didn't you? And you saved him, risking your own life for his time after time. And what did he do in return?" The smoke around him billowed up, confusing her further.

"He...betrayed me," Katniss answered, her mind clouding up. _Was Peeta the type to use a girl like that? A girl he knew loved him?_

"He betrayed you. That doesn't hardly seem fair, now does it?"

"No," she answered, even if it didn’t feel right on her lips. _Was I just blind to his intentions all along? Has this only been a game to him?_

"No. Why should you give up your life for a boy who takes and takes and takes without any account for how that may affect others? Who may have never loved you in the first place? Think about it, Katniss. Did he ever tell you that he loved you?"

_No._ "No."

"No. He didn't. And you know why, don't you?"

Katniss refused to nod, but she was so full of uncertainty. Peeta never told her because Peeta never did love her. Katniss was a pawn to him, a learning curve, someone to waste the day with until he recovered well enough to marry the most suitable Merchant girl. "What would you have me do?"

“Stay alive.” Haymitch's eye fluttered toward the sky. "Kill him."

She gasped. "I...I couldn't..."

"And why couldn't you? He has killed a part of you, hasn't he? With absolutely no regard for how you may react to anything, he allowed his mother to plan an engagement. Then...introduced you to his fiance. Is a boy like that someone who deserves to live? I'll provide you life, Katniss Everdeen, a long and happy life, if you prove that Death is stronger than Love." He held the dagger out toward her. "I can make this all disappear," he continued, noticing her hesitation. "I can make it so your family back home accepts you with open arms, as if you never left in the first place."

Katniss tentatively reached out, her hand hovering over the knife. Could she do this? Could she really kill Peeta just to save herself?

"There can only be one," Haymitch chided her. "It's you or the boy. You can teach him a lesson or become just another story of a silly Seam girl who died over the unrequited love of a Merchant boy. It's your choice." With a wave of his hand, Haymitch cleared the smoke around them. "Look. Has your love come searching for you?"

With the blanket of smoke lifted, Katniss could hear the party music float through the air. She could see the dancing and drinking and laughter from behind the large windows, a room full of blonde-haired Merchants who looked down on her. She turned her head, seeing a small Seam neighborhood just beyond the large gates that allowed entrance and exit from the Merchants Quarters. That was her home. It could be her home again. The mansion was never her home. Those people were never her family. She wanted to go home.

"I accept," she answered, snatching the dagger from Haymitch's hand and stashing it in the folds of her dress. 

Haymitch watched on with sheer delight as she swiftly made her way across the grounds, back toward the mansion. _Well, Annie. I believe we have discovered the truth of our little bet. The Seam girl is not nearly as strong in her love as you may have imagined. What does it feel like, to know that Death will always be the strongest motivator for these humans?_

_You have not won yet, Haymitch,_ Annie warned. _She still has to carry through with her agreement. I would not be surprised if she was unable to succeed._

_You didn't see the look in her eyes when I promised her her old life. She will kill the boy. And I will get my soul._

Katniss saw a light in Peeta’s room and quickly scaled the tree and tapped on his window. He rushed over to open it and and pulled her inside. “Katniss!” he called to her with desperation. “Katniss, I’m so sorry.” He hugged her tightly, nearly causing her to cut herself with the blade. “Please understand, my mother hinted at it, but I didn’t think she would go through with it. I would nevergo through with a marriage to Madge. I’ll stay unmarried for all my life if it means I get to stay with you.” He kissed her, pulling her even closer. She could feel the tears run down his cheeks before reluctantly reciprocating his kiss. Peeta dropped to his knees and rested his head against her stomach. “Katniss, please.” 

She ran her fingers through his hair, holding his head against her body. She felt him shaking against her and it took everything she had in her body to slide the dagger out from the folds of her dress to raise it over his bare neck. _I could slice his spinal cord here,_ she thought, remembering the time she and Gale had to put a doe down as quickly and painlessly as possible. Gale sliced through the tough skin and tendons; it didn’t take long before the doe stopped fluttering and died. She could do the same to Peeta. _It would be the most humane way to go about it._

“Please, Katniss,” he sobbed. “Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much.”

Her breath caught in her throat as his words repeated over and over in her foggy brain. _I love you. I love you. I love you_. Her eyes filled with tears that spilled into his hair. The knife became heavy in her hand, her arm began to tremble. A breeze blew around her and a soft cascade of flower petals surrounded them. _I love you_. “Peeta,” her voice was hoarse. A petal landed on her wrist and she dropped the dagger. She fell to her knees in front of him and caught his eye. “I love you, too.”

But it wasn’t enough. The dagger hit the carpet and made just enough of a dull thud to pull Peeta’s eyes off of hers and onto the shining metal near his feet. He furrowed his brow and leaned over to grab it. “What...what is this?” He turned back to Katniss. “Where did this come from?”

“I...I...”

He turned the dagger over and over in his hands, shaking his head. "Is this yours, Katniss?"

She nodded. “Yes...but Peeta...” She struggled to find the words to explain why she had the dagger. She couldn’t actually kill him like she intended, not now that those words were spoken, confirming their love for one another. Her feelings of insecurity and doubt were fleeting. She just needed to be with him, to hear him confess his feelings for her. She would never doubt him again.

He dropped the blade to the floor and backed away from her, eyes wide in shock and fear. “You were...going to use that? On me?” He stood and began pacing the room, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t understand, Katniss.”

“No, Peeta! I swear!”

“Is this because of Madge? I knew you were upset but I...I can’t believe this. I thought you loved me and now you’re trying to kill me?” His voice continued to rise in volume until she felt like he was screaming at her. “Was this the plan all along? Y-you think we can’t get married so what? You just kill me?”

“Peeta, no-”

“I thought you were different, Katniss. You were supposed to be different than all the others who just wanted my money or my family name. And here you are, just like everyone else!”

“No!” She cried, starting to stand. “Please, Peeta!”

The door to his bedroom opened. “Mister Peeta, you mother sent me to...check...on...you.” Thresh’s deep voice trailed off when he took in the site before him. “I apologize, sir, I’ll leave you and Miss Katniss alone.”

Thresh began to close the door when Peeta called him back. “No, Thresh,” he said in a cold, unattached voice. “I think it best if you don’t leave.” Peeta kicked the dagger toward Thresh, who picked it up.

“This is from the Seam,” Thresh mumbled, turning it over. His eyes flashed to Katniss and the gentle giant’s eyes flooded with anger. “How dareyou?” He accused Katniss. “I’ll get someone, Mister Peeta.”

In seconds, the room was crowded with Peeta’s mother and father and a few Peacekeepers who happened to be at the party. “Is this yours?” One Peacekeeper asked a still-stunned Katniss. She could only nod, staring at Peeta who kept his back purposely turned to her. “Attempted murder on a Merchant by a Seam is a grave offense. Being caught nearly in the act and with plenty of motive, I wouldn’t be surprised if the firing squad weren’t lined up tomorrow for your execution.”

“No!” Katniss cried. “Please, Peeta, it was a mistake!” The Peacekeepers helped her to her feet and escorted her out of the room.

“Wait,” Peeta called when they passed by. “I don’t want her to die.”

Katniss breathed a sigh of relief. He would understand. He would have to understand. She was doing what she thought she was supposed to do until he told her that he loved her. Surely he would listen to her and know that her heart was true and full of love for him. That was why he was protesting her sentence, wasn’t it?

“Peeta,” his mother hissed, grabbing his arm. “That piece of scum tried to murder you in your own house. Think about this before you do something stupid.”

Peeta looked into Katniss’ scared, grey eyes. Katniss saw a flicker, a faint twitch of insecurity. “No,” he said. “Just take her away. I want her out of my sight. I never want to see you again.”

The Peacekeepers roughly dragged a dejected and broken Katniss through the mansion, past the room of gawking party-goers, and onto the lawn. Because the entrance gate was near the mansion grounds, they did not have to go far to throw her out of the Quarters completely. As the gates slammed shut behind her, all Katniss could do was stare back at the house where her Peeta, her love, was watching from his bedroom window. 

He pulled the curtains shut and she shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all my thanks to Sunfishdunes for making this reader-ready. :)


	10. Chapter 9

Katniss followed the road leading from the Merchants Quarters toward her former home in the Seam. She walked as long as she could, but found that the adrenaline from the evening had worn off, leaving her utterly exhausted after only a couple of miles. She considered climbing one of the trees that lined the road, but knew the fabric of the dress would restrict her movements. Instead, she found a soft patch of grass under a bush. It would be comfortable enough and the foliage would provide her warmth and protection from the cool night.

She dreamt of Peeta. Of his eyes and his lips. Of his hair and his arms. Of his smile. His body. His soul. His spirit. She woke crying, knowing it was her own weakness and selfishness that ripped the lovers apart. Forever, it seemed.

She wiped her eyes, cleaned off her dress, and began the long walk back into the Seam. All morning, in every house she passed, she saw eyes peeking out, mouths whispering, fingers pointing her direction. It wasn’t until nearly noon that she saw any of them stand out in the open air. By that point, she was beginning to recognize the outskirts of Gale’s neighborhood. Apparently, the neighborhood recognized her as well. 

“Look who has come crawling back home!” They would taunt as she passed by.

“That’s a pretty little Merchant dress,” one spit out with poison on her lips.

“Done being a Merchant whore?”

“How many did you screw?”

“You must not be any good if you’re back.”

They sneered and snarled and turned against her at every pass. She was not welcome here. They wanted to break her. But she was already broken; they couldn’t hurt her anymore than she hurt herself. Her wounds ran deep, their plunging knifes only tearing her already battered soul further apart. At some point, she could no longer feel the hatred except for what she felt toward herself.

“He won’t take you back, you know,” a smug Leevy called from her yard, only a house away from Gale’s. “We all know you chose that Merchant over Gale, you traitorous bitch. What makes you think he’d sully his name by taking damaged goods?”

_Damaged goods._

“Katniss?” Gale’s voice floated out, quieting the neighbors. “Is that...is it you?”

She turned to face him, barely recognizing the man she left behind. Her partner. Her brother. He had always been taller than her but he seemed to have gotten even bigger. His arms were more defined, his chest broader, legs stronger. His once clean-shaven face was now filled with dark stubble. His skin looked rough to touch and Katniss could swear he’d aged twenty years.

“Yes,” she answered quietly, wishing the audience would disappear so the two could talk in peace.

“You’re back?” He asked in disbelief.

“I’m...I’m back.” She swallowed hard and cast her eyes to the ground. “For good, it would seem.”

Gale nodded, his eyes focused on her, taking in her attire. Despite having slept on the ground the night before, her hair was still in it’s updo from the party and her makeup was still lightly applied to her face. Her flaming dress stood out in the grey, lifeless Seam, like the beacon of light in Peeta’s painting. “And you came...you came back here? Why?”

She glanced up into his eyes, grey as coal like hers. The only one who really understood her, the only one who knew why she had to go when she did. “You’re my family, Gale.”

The muscles around his lips twitched. Those who didn’t know him or his mannerisms would never have caught it. But Katniss did. And to her, it meant one thing: hope. 

That hope was shattered when Hazelle stepped out of the house behind her son. “Family?” She asked in an accusatory voice. She had been listening in on the pair’s short exchange, growing more and more angry at the girl who ran off. “Family? You walked outon your so-called family for a complete stranger!”

Katniss hung her head, playing with the edges of her dress as Hazelle continued to yell at her like a street dog.

“You’re so damn stubborn, girl! We finallywere getting back to normal and you come strolling back here like you did nothing wrong? You’re preying upon my son because you realize the spell you’ve cast over him. You knowhe can never turn you down and you’re usinghim just like you always did. Well not this time.” Waiting until Katniss raised her eyes, Hazelle continued. “We are not your family. You are not welcome here. Go back to the life you chose, you selfish brat.”

“Told you, Merchant whore,” Leevy started up again, renewing the rumble of insults and angry words from the others, all who were gathered outside their homes to watch the show. “Damaged goods.”

Katniss pleaded silently with Gale, knowing he was the only one who could talk to Hazelle, who could convince her of the truth. To her dismay, Gale remained stoic and turned to follow his mother back into the house. “Your silence speaks louder than any insult Hazelle threw at me,” Katniss called after him. He glanced over his shoulder and she held her head high, refusing to let him see her cry. 

She waited until most of the neighbors re-entered their own homes to decide where to go. The forest was her only sanctuary, but even that was too full of memories to bring her any semblance of peace. Perhaps there was an empty home in the Seam she could take refuge in, somewhere in the more deserted neighborhoods further down the road. 

"Katniss!"

Katniss turned and saw Gale coming toward her with a small satchel over his shoulder. When he caught up to her, he handed the bag to her. "What is this?" She asked.

"Your clothes," he answered. "Ones you left at the house. Hazelle wanted to burn them."

"Oh. Well, thank you for saving them for-"

"But I told her we may be able to sell them," Gale finished. "I can’t have anything that reminds me of you in my life. You chose to be a lapdog to the enemy rather than stay with your kind. Maybe you should do what she said and go back to that life.” 

Katniss opened the satchel and sobbed when she pulled what few possessions she had left from it. A pair of trousers and an old shirt. A few hair ties. It was all she owned now, but at least she could be comfortable for what was left of her pathetic life. She slipped behind a building, hidden from any prying eyes, and changed into her pants. She let down her hair and quickly rebraided it before rubbing the remaining makeup off her face. As she stuffed the dress – her last physical memory of her mistakes – into her bag, she caught sight of her reflection in one of the dirty windows.

Looking back at her wasn’t the seventeen year old she was, but the innocent eyes of the four-year-old who lived in a tree. The girl who was saved by the Victors. That girl was just as broken, just as alone, just as full of despair. But there was something in that Katniss’ face that was missing from this Katniss’. Hope. The little boy and his loaf of bread gave her hope back then. It was that hope that kept him in her mind all those years. That gave her the strength to leave behind the comfort of knowing what her future would hold with Gale and seeking the unknown with Peeta. 

“Where did you go?” She asked the reflection, reaching toward the glass. “What happened to you?”

_Love._

Katniss heard the child’s voice in her mind. She could hear the birds chirping their mating songs all around her.

_Down in the valley. The valley so low. Hang your head over, hear the wind blow._

The birds ceased. The wind calmed. She was, once more, filled with hope. She wiped the tears that fell from her eyes and stood up straight. She knew what she needed. Hope. And there was only one boy who could give her that, even still. She didn’t believe that all the love he felt for her was gone, not if she still felt that love in her heart. She would go to Peeta, she would wait for him. They protected each other. 

“ _It’s what we do.”_

She settled the satchel on her back and proudly walked back down the road, away from the Seam, and toward her Hope.

_My goodness that girl is stubborn,_ Finnick said to the group. He, Johanna, and Annie had been watching over the girl ever since Haymitch declared himself victorious and starting his most recent drinking binge. He was always a sore winner. _She’s going back to him. After everything._

_She’s resilient,_ Annie answered with a sad smile.

Johanna snorted. _I hate to admit that LoveyDovey has a point. That girl knows what she wants. There was absolutely no doubt in her when I visited her. Fear, maybe, but never doubt._

_How is anyone so sure about anything?_ Finnick asked, blowing away a storm cloud that was brewing ahead of Katniss on the road. _Are they all like this?_

_No_ , Annie said, _I told you there was something special about her. She’s a fighter. She’ll keep fighting until the bitter end._ The other Victors gathered around Annie, all silently keeping vigil over the Seam girl who was willing to wait outside the Merchant gates for just the chance of seeing her love again.

And Katniss did wait. She huddled just on her side of the gates, watching, waiting, for any sign of Peeta. She never saw him, but she did watch as the grounds of the Mellark mansion were transformed and decorated with extravagant white tents camped throughout the yard. A stark white carpet led from the stairs, between the tents, to a intricately carved gazebo that was covered with flowers, set to bloom any day. 

“The wedding,” Katniss would hear whispers of. “Finally that boy is getting tied down.”

It was the event of the year, from what she gathered. Everyone in the Merchants Quarters was invited, including some esteemed guests from the Capitol itself. It seemed everyone wanted to see the youngest Mellark heir marry the equally-matched Undersee daughter. Together they could purify the Merchant line back to it’s former glory.

The morning of the blessed event, servants were scrambling about the yard to make sure everything was in _just_ the right place. Katniss could see on their faces that despite being stressed by having Mrs. Mellark right over their shoulders, there was general happiness to see the young Mellark being married, even if it was to a woman who was too much like his mother for their liking. 

The servants halted their work as Peeta and his mother walked through the gardens. Katniss couldn’t tear her eyes off of him, thinking he looked especially handsome in his suit, even though it was traditional Merchant wedding attire. He smiled stiffly as his mother explained everything, oblivious to his disinterest in the entire show. She didn’t care to notice that Peeta had simply been going through the motions since the night of the party. He spent more time with Madge but was always checked out of her shallow conversations, wishing instead to be outside with Katniss. To be kissing Katniss. To be loving Katniss.

He thought of her always. When he’d sleep at night, he’d feel her ghost in his arms. When he would run errands in town, he’d be flooded with her scent of trees and lavender. Even now, when he was tuning his mother out as she droned on and on about who would be sitting where and with whom, he could swear he saw Katniss watching him from the other side of the gate.

Grey locked on blue.

It was her. He watched her from the corner of his eye until his mother was finished explaining all the details and went back inside the mansion to begin getting ready. Only then did he slip off the grounds and to the gate. “Katniss.”

She looked so weak, so pale, so near death. But hearing her name from his lips gave her new life. She smiled back at him, clutching the bars of the gate tightly. 

He rushed to her and fell to his knees right across from her, wrapping his hands around hers. “My Katniss.”

“Peeta,” she croaked. “I’ve been waiting for you.” She was dehydrated and emaciated from her time waiting for him. She hadn’t left that spot by the gate to find food or water, too afraid to miss seeing him.

He reached through the bars and cradled her face. Up close, she could see the bruises well-hidden under a fine layer of makeup, and she guessed from the coloring that he received them the night of the party. “Shh,” he hushed her, holding her as close as he could with the barrier still between them. He wanted nothing more than to open the gate and take care of her the way she had cared for him.

Neither paid any attention to how much time was passing; they savored these final touches, knowing that they would never be able to have more than this. Peeta gave her tiny sips of water from a bottle he had with him, trying to restore any strength back into her weakened body. 

“Peeta!” 

Peeta sighed. “That’s Madge.”

“Peeta, where are you?”

Katniss and Peeta looked over to where Madge stood in the doorway of the mansion, hair in curls and wearing a robe.

“Do you have to go?” Katniss asked, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Peeta grimaced. He glanced back to the house, set for the future he never wanted, then at Katniss, the future he never knew he needed. 

“Peeta Mellark!” It was his mother this time, standing next to Madge, staring at the pair at the gate. 

He swallowed hard and didn’t bother to hide the tears that were now streaming down his cheeks. He brought his face right against the gate and kissed her chapped lips. It was not needy or hungry, like his past kisses. It was soft and light. It was a last kiss.

Katniss watched through blurry eyes as Peeta retreated back to the mansion, where his mother and future bride waited. She rested her head against the bars and knew. It didn’t matter that they loved each other, they came from different worlds. They could never actually be together the way she wanted. The way she needed him to be. Their love wasn’t enough.

She welcomed death.

His hand on her shoulder was light, like a long lost friend. She didn’t need to look to know it was Haymitch, here to collect what he had been waiting for. Her broken heart was loud enough for everyone around to hear, so she knew it was only a matter of time before Death appeared.

“Ready?” He asked, in a voice she barely registered. She was used to hearing his snarky tone cutting through her, not this apprehensive and...despondent voice. _He won, didn’t he? Through me, he proved that death was stronger than love. Wasn’t that why he was here?_

The questions exited her brain almost as soon as they entered. She couldn’t speak, her throat too parched and cracked to form words. She nodded. Using the last bit of strength, she rose to her feet. Haymitch wrapped his arm around her waist, allowing her to lean against him as he walked her down the road in silence, away from the gates.

Haymitch’s hold on Katniss forced him to remain in his human form as they crossed through the Seam. She stumbled once, twice, three times, but always he was there with a sturdy grasp to keep her from falling. “Not here,” he told her. “Not in front of them.”

_Them?_ She looked up, finally noticing the crowd around her. These same people who taunted and hated her only a few weeks ago now watched her with pity, with sympathy.

“Are you, are you coming to the tree?” A soft voice began to sing. Slowly, the others joined in, singing the traditional funeral song to Katniss as she passed by. “Where they strung up a man they say murdered three? Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be. If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.”

Birds perched on rooftops and whistled the tune along with the crowd. Singing for the girl who was being escorted, still alive, by Haymitch himself, to her death. The girl who had been protected by the Victors, not hunted by them. For the girl they finally understood was not being selfish, but fulfilling her destiny.

“Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where the dead man called out for his love to flee? Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be. If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.” 

Katniss caught sight of Gale among the crowd, his eyes red and face stained from crying. He held Posy on his hip, her head resting against his shoulder, eyes just as full of tears. Vick, too, didn’t try to hold in the sadness he felt toward his adoptive sister being led to her death. He clutched tightly to Hazelle’s dress, so reminiscent of the first time they met. She met Hazelle’s gaze and held it as long as she could, needing the woman to see the truth.

“Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where I told you to run so we’d both be free? Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be. If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.”

A shift occurred and she is now someone precious to these people. Gale begins it, followed by Posy and Vick, then Hazelle, until almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and hold them out for her in salute. They are saying thank you. They are showing their admiration. They are saying goodbye.

“Are you, are you coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me. Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be. If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.”

The song resonated until Katniss and Haymitch reached the forest. They were met there by the other Victors, each displaying heartbreak for the Seam girl. Johanna pulled Annie next to her, covering her ears with thick plants to drown out the pain in Katniss’ soul. Finnick assisted Haymitch by picking up Katniss and carrying her in his strong, bronzed arms. They walked in quiet, only the occasional sob from Annie cutting through, until they reached their destination. 

Katniss knew where they were, even with her eyes closed. This was her tree. The tree that saved her life would now be the one that took it. It was fitting, symbolic, perfect. Haymitch strung a rope around a tall, sturdy branch and created a noose.

“I’ll make it painless,” he promised. It was meant for Katniss, yet all the others found comfort in his compassion. He and Finnick propped her up and slipped the noose around her neck. They held her tightly as all four said their goodbyes, each finding it more difficult than they originally anticipated. 

She accepted their goodbyes but had only one thought flashing through her thoughts. As Haymitch and Finnick lessened their hold on her body and she felt the first plunge toward death, she called out his name with her last breath. “Peeta.”

Her body jolted down but stopped before the rope was pulled taut. She opened her eyes and was met with the most pained blue eyes she had ever seen. “Peeta?”

He nodded, never letting his eyes drift from hers. He stretched up and slipped the noose from around her neck, holding her weakened body in his arms. He set her on the ground and pulled out a bottle of water and a loaf of bread from the bag he carried over his shoulder. He gave her sips of water and fed her chunks of bread, wiping her face and cradling her head the entire time.

“Why?”

He smiled down at her. “Because we protect each other. And because I love you.”

“But...your...family? Madge?”

Peeta shook his head. “They...they never wanted what was best for me, only what was best for them. You’re the only one who ever cared about me. I love you, Katniss.”

She reached up for him and he brought his lips down to hers in a gentle kiss. 

“I love you. And I could never live without you. I couldn’t live with someone else knowing it was always meant to be you. I’d rather be poor and struggling with you than rich and comfortable with anyone else.”

“You want me?” She furrowed her eyebrows, still in a haze of near-death adrenaline.

“As long as you’ll still have me.” He used his thumb to wipe away the tears she wept. “Oh, love, why are you crying?”

She smiled up at him. “Of course I’ll still have you. You’ll stay with me?”

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, my friends. I've got an epilogue that I'll post Monday :)


	11. Epilogue

"And they lived happily ever after?" The little girl asked, nestled tightly against her mama's side.

"And they lived happily ever after," her mother confirmed. "Think you could sleep now, little one?"

The girl looked out the window at the subsiding storm and nodded. The older woman picked her up and carried her back to her bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. "Mama?"

"Yes, darling?"

The girl sat up and furrowed her brow. "Mama, I wish that story was real."

"Why's that?"

"Because those two sounded like they were very happy. And like they really loved each other. Like you and Papa."

Her mother sat next to her on the bed and brushed her daughter's hair from her face. "Sometimes stories are better when they influence us. The story of the Mockingjay helps us to remember and forgive people who may have hurt us. And sometimes, when we live those lessons, our lives become stories of their own."

"You're smart, Mama," the daughter smiled, slinking back under her covers.

Her mother waited until the girl fell asleep to leave, quietly closing the door behind her. She wandered back toward the living room and gasped when she saw a man sitting in a chair, flipping through one of the books from the bookshelf. "What are you doing here?"

He looked up at her and smiled his cocky grin. "Miss me, Sweetheart?"

"You're not welcome in this house. And I'm certainly not in the mood for any more of your deals, Haymitch."

Haymitch rolled his eyes and shut the book with a loud snap. "You think that's all I'm interested in? Please, Seam girl. I'm just checking in on you. Seeing how you and your Merchant boy are doing."

"You already know, don't you?" She challenged him, a grin crossing her features as well.

"You're a real piece of work. I told Annie she should be the one to come check in on you but nooo, it had it be me." He pointed his finger at her. "I'm still paying for you two 'star-crossed lovers' proving me wrong, you know." He stood and faced her, his customary smoke only coming off of him in small puffs. "No, Sweetheart, I'm just checking in on you. I can see this house is full of more love and devotion than any other I've encountered before. Hell, even Johanna and Finnick recognize it, and you know how little they care about you humans."

"Then you're not here to collect?"

He shook his head. "Not from this house. Not tonight, anyway. You and that boy have many years ahead of you, from what I can see. So, you know, try to stay alive so I don't have to come visit anytime soon, yeah?"

With a snap of his fingers, he was enveloped in smoke and disappeared from the house. She wrapped one of the blankets from the couch around her, erasing the chill that Haymitch still left in her bones and hustled off to her own bed, where her husband waited for her. She crawled into his arms and regaled in the warmth of his body. "Is the baby asleep?" She asked.

"He went down pretty quickly," he assured her. "I heard the story you told Peanut."

She looked up at him with a knowing smile. "I love that story."

"It's my favorite," he confirmed, kissing her. "Will you sing for me? Like you did then?"

She curled into his body and began to sing. "Down in the meadow, under a willow tree..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd that's it. I hope you all enjoyed it! Thanks always go to Sunfish for pushing me to finish this and catching all my horrible errors!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue to my newest story, written for the Fandom for Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. The rest of the story won't be available until December but if you want to read the entire thing earlier (plus a TON of other great Hunger Games, Twilight, Harry Potter, and original fics) consider donating to FFLLs. For only $10, you can get a whole pack of stories of your choice two months before anyone else! There are some amazing authors PLUS you'd be donating to a great cause. More information can be found on the fandom4lls blogspot page.
> 
> Remember to take a look at my writing tumblr : passionatelycuriousff for story updates and recs.


End file.
